by Vivian Arend
She was breathing hard by the time he made a reluctant noise and moved farther down the bed, pressing her legs apart as he went. Kisses to her abdomen, to her belly button. To the very top of her mound.
She met his gaze. “You look hungry,” she whispered.
“Starving.”
Trevor slipped a finger through her folds, the soft caress sending a ripple through her entire body. Then he lowered his head, and his tongue that had teased her so deliciously before made contact with her clitoris, and her hips rose off the bed of their own accord. “Oh, my goodness.”
He hummed happily and did it again. “It is good. Not only are you delicious, I love the noises you make. Let’s me know what you like.”
He licked her again, circling his finger at the very entrance to her body even as he focused on the tight bundle of nerves that seemed to be a trigger for every one of her pleasure sensors. “I like it all. Everything you do to me. I can’t believe we’re here.”
“We’re here all right, and the next thing that’s going to happen is you’re going to come.”
He wasn’t gentle anymore. He’d said he was starving, and he moved as if he were. Pressing his hands under her butt and lifting her to his mouth, he ate hungrily. Licking and thrusting, driving her wild. Trying to get air into her lungs didn’t seem as important as it had been before. Her only focus was how amazing what he was doing to her felt. A tight spiral of excitement kept closing in. Nearer and nearer until the shockwave of it set her off, shaking her body as his name escaped her lips.
Her core squeezed tight, clamping down on the fingers he’d slipped into her. When she reached to pull him up, he pulled a rock imitation, locking in place to start all over.
“I can’t. Oh, Trevor, it’s too much.”
“Not too much,” he insisted, nuzzling his nose against her curls and breathing deeply, sexual tension in his voice, but that mesmerizing smile on his face. “I want to see that again. I want to taste you some more. I haven’t had nearly enough.”
He pulled her to him, thrusting his tongue deep. Becky wrapped her legs around his shoulders, her fingers clutching the bed sheets in the hopes that would keep her anchored to the ground instead of floating off.
A second climax hit, and as if oxygen had been denied to most of her body and was now rushing in, tingles hit, sparks struck and stars danced in front of her eyes. She moaned, a high wavering sound of happiness and satisfaction.
Trevor moved quickly, grabbing a condom from—she wasn’t sure where it had come from. Becky lay sprawled on her bed, relaxed and satisfied, but the sight of him touching his heavy shaft to roll down the condom made something tingle all over again.
She wiggled upward, reaching for him as he moved back between her legs, his hips settling over hers. Trevor kissed her, teasing with his tongue as the hot hard head of his cock nudged between her folds.
She curled her hands around his shoulders, lightheaded and eager, as he pushed his way inside. His cock opening her, the length thicker and hotter than his fingers had been.
Out of nowhere an icy wind blew into the room. Fear curled its way up her spine and took control of her body. She tensed, her hands falling from his shoulders, heart rate tripling, not from desire. Terror locked her throat and she couldn’t breathe.
Trevor pushed himself up, staring into her face with concern, “Becky?”
She couldn’t move. Couldn’t get enough air in to say anything at first, and then the words shot out of her. Barely a whisper, if she even got the words out. “No. My God, no.”
Becky squeezed her eyes tight, trying to force away the horror riding her that made no sense. It was nothing Trevor was doing. She wanted this…
…but some part of her body didn’t.
Without her saying another word, Trevor rolled away, slipping from her body to lie beside her on the mattress. He cupped her face carefully. “Are you okay? What happened? Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head. “It’s not you. Really. Oh my God, what’s wrong with me?”
She pressed her face to his chest and hid, the icy-cold sensation of fear still tangled around her as she turned to Trevor for protection.
He held her tightly and made soothing noises as he stroked her back. His erection made contact with her hip, leaving a stickiness on her skin as his desire slowly deflated. They lay there in silence but for the pounding of her terrified heartbeat.
“I’m so sorry,” she managed to whisper against his chest.
Trevor swore softly. “Don’t you do that. You haven’t done anything wrong.”
“I feel like—” She wasn’t sure how to define it. Like she’d failed him? “I enjoy everything I do with you. I don’t understand why this happened.”
He pressed his lips to the forehead. “Did you have fun up until I went inside you?”
She nodded.
Trevor chuckled. “Good. Because I had a hell of a good time going down on you, and I have this thing about your tits. I’m not done with them, just so you know.”
It was so him, trying to make her feel better. “I want to have sex with you. I really do.”
He shrugged, settling her tight against his warm body. “We went a little fast, I suppose. Don’t worry. We’ll try again another time. Maybe a different position will make it better.”
There was no way she’d get out the words apologizing for him not having come. She felt guilty, but she couldn’t bear to offer anything else in return. Not right now.
The muscles of the back of her neck ached, and terror still rolled through her even though she knew she had nothing to fear. “I don’t like me very much right now,” she murmured.
“Going to spank you if you don’t stop that,” Trevor warned. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” He tilted her chin up so she had to meet his eyes. There was no reproach there for being inadequate as a woman. The warm depths held nothing but concern. “You are one of the strongest people I know, Rodeo. You’re making a brand-new life in a world you didn’t grow up in, you’ve lived through hell, and as far as I know this is the first time you’ve hit a brick wall. Don’t you dare put yourself down for having to take a deep breath and pause.”
“I don’t want this,” she insisted. “This horrid fear.”
“It won’t always be there,” he promised. Trevor kissed her. A brief, dancing touch on her lips as he lowered his voice and spoke with confidence. “I know you’ll eventually accomplish every damn thing you want to, including sex, but if it takes a little while to get there, so what? We’ve got other things to have fun with along the way.”
He blocked her response with another kiss, stroking and petting her until there was no way for the tension in her body to remain.
They crawled out of bed, and she got dressed while he snuck downstairs to where he’d left his clothes.
“You want to go for a drive?” he asked as she joined him in the kitchen.
Becky shook her head. “I think I’ll have an early evening. I’m exhausted.”
Trevor held her again, squeezing her tight as if that alone could get rid of the web of misery tangled around her body and brain. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
She nodded, staring out the window as he left. Wondering at the injustice of being trapped by the actions of others. Over the past months she’d gone though a lot of emotions regarding her life. Fear, confusion…
This was the first time she’d actually felt something close to hatred toward the men and women who had been involved in her past, whether directly or by complacency. It hadn’t been her fault—Trevor was right.
But she still had to deal with the fallout.
And for all tears she’d already cried, and all the times that she’d said she was done crying, she had nothing left in her except to drop into a chair at the table, put her head down and let them fall once more.
She was finished far sooner than she’d expected, maybe because anger gave her something to burn away the tears.
Trevor was right about something else. She would get t
hrough this. She would find a way to take back everything that had been stolen from her. It was going to take time, and knowing that fed another load of fuel onto the flames of her anger.
She wiped her eyes dry and took a deep breath, trying to steady her breathing.
Trevor’s discarded final hand sat by her elbow, and she picked it up absently, intending to put the cards away. Confusion struck as she focused on what she was seeing. That last hand that had taken so long to play—Trevor had held three wildcards and a set of pairs. Enough that he should have laid on the table and declared a win.
He’d cheated. He’d deliberately let her take the game, and make the decision, and all over again her throat was tight.
He was a good man. Far far better than the ones who had taken her unwilling body and left her broken. She didn’t know what she had done to deserve having Trevor walk into her life, but she was going to do her utmost to make sure he knew she appreciated it. Every single thing he did for her.
Somehow she was going to get to the other side of that brick wall, and when she did, she sure hoped Trevor would still be waiting for her.
Chapter Twenty
Trevor dipped his head toward the phone, fighting to see who was calling him at seven a.m.
“Dad?” He’d seen Randy not even thirty minutes ago back at the barns.
“There’s been a cancellation, so if we can get to Calgary by ten o’clock, they’re gonna do more tests on me.” Randy hesitated. “Part of me wants to say to hell with it, but I promised you and your mother, so I’m ready to go. You drive your truck, though, so if we get stopped for speeding, the ticket goes on your record, not mine.”
Trevor snickered as he hit the brakes and pulled a U-turn, gravel flying up from under the wheels, a cloud of dust rising as he changed direction and moved back toward the main house. “Let Steve know we’ll be gone today?”
“I’ll do that now,” Randy promised.
The trip to Calgary took less than the three hours it should have, but the rest of the traffic on Highway 2 was also traveling well above the limit. Randy stayed pretty quiet the entire trip, and Trevor didn’t want to push.
Besides, he had enough on his mind to keep him occupied all on his own.
Becky’s terror the previous night had scared the beejeezus out of him at the time. She’d been so on board with everything they’d done along the way he’d…not forgotten—there was no way on earth he’d ever forget what had happened to her—but more like assumed she’d ended up with no long-term trauma.
He was a fucking ass for pushing too hard, too soon. He was going to keep it in his pants from now on until she was good and ready.
They pulled into the clinic with plenty of time to spare. Randy got called nearly right away while Trevor sat in the chair he was directed to, flipping halfheartedly through a magazine and wishing he had something else to entertain him.
Stupid. Of course—they were on the north end of town, with plenty of stores around. He double-checked at the nurse’s station to find out how long his dad was supposed to be, then took off to do a little shopping.
Summertime, and the mall was full of teenagers and moms with strollers. He waited at a set of doors, holding it open for a frazzled woman who was corralling along four kids. He felt sorry for her up until one of the kids slipped a hand into hers, and she looked down with a smile that wiped away a lot of the tiredness from her eyes.
It was enough to set Trevor pondering. Maybe he didn’t get the rug-rat thing, but obviously other people did.
…which made him think about Becky and her concern for her sister.
Did he want Sarah and her kids trapped in the hell that was Paradise Settlement? No, especially not after he’d done a Google search and found out more about the place, way back when Becky had mentioned it the first time.
He wouldn’t want a dog raised in that setting.
An ugly, barely contained anger simmered in his gut. Sarah had dragged her sister into danger knowing what might happen. He’d never tell Becky that, or tear down her sister in front of her, but the whole shit-storm made him ultra-wary.
He honestly ached for the innocent kids stuck where they didn’t belong, the sensation strange and new, but he didn’t see any way for him to change things. If the government couldn’t shut the cult down, how was a simple rancher from nowhere supposed to make a difference?
Right now the only person he could make a difference to was Becky.
He walked past a shop window filled with pretty little knickknacks, his feet jerking to a stop. He slipped in the door to look around in the hopes of finding something that would put a smile on her face. He made his way back to the clinic with a few minutes to spare, dropping into one of the uncomfortable waiting room chairs and trying to distract himself with a magazine.
His dad escaped the back room the instant the nurse opened it for him, heading out of the clinic like his ass was on fire.
Trevor rushed ahead to open the door. “You need us to stop anywhere?”
His dad shook his head. “Just get me home.”
It was a quiet ride for the first hour before Trevor thought it was time to break the silence. “You were going to torment me with descriptions of everything that they did to you.”
Randy made a rude noise. “Trust me, even I’m not that mean. But they’re done, and hopefully this time we find out something more than I’m getting old.”
“You’re not old,” Trevor assured him. “Other than this stupid illness, you’re probably in the best shape out of all your brothers.”
“You’re buttering me up for some reason,” Randy accused, but he smiled. “Mike’s got an excuse. He is a good bit older than the rest of us.”
“Mike, and then Ben?”
“George, me, then John and Mark.”
Another cold sensation hit his gut. Sadness at the loss, and the missed opportunities death brought. “They were twins, right?”
Randy grunted. “That’s not a secret.”
“No, I guess, not.” He’d been too wrapped up in his own head to care. “Did Mark leave because his twin died?”
For the longest time his dad sat in silence before sighing. “Fine. You want all the dirty laundry, it’s yours. Maybe it’s time anyway. Hell, who knows how much longer I’ve got—”
“Don’t,” Trevor snapped. “Don’t you fucking go and put yourself on your deathbed before your time.”
So much for being reassuring and gentle. Trevor gave himself a mental slap upside the head.
But all he got from his father for his rudeness was a chuckle. “You sounded like your mother just then.”
“She’s a smart woman.”
Randy nodded. “Damn right she is. But this is something you should know about, and I’d prefer to be the one to tell you than have you get rumours or bullshit down the road. Mark didn’t want to ranch. He was a bit like your cousin Daniel in that way. Had other things that he was interested in, but we needed him, so he stuck around longer than he wanted. And he stuck around because John needed him.”
Trevor felt like he had to move cautiously or the conversation would come to an end before it’d begun. “Was there something wrong with John?”
A soft shrug lifted his father’s shoulders. “Nothing that you could come right out and say, but he was moody. He’d get lost in what he was doing, and was easily distracted. Mark could always pull him out of it. Just like you’re always able to lighten up any situation. Sometimes you do it by making people laugh, even if that means they’re laughing at you.” Randy stared out the front window, drumming his fingers on the armrest. “Mark was like that, and we all relied on him. Our folks were gone by then, and it was just us boys. Mike in charge, Ben complaining about things. George with stars in his eyes, and dreams about horses.”
“And you, if memory serves me from what Uncle Mike shared, you were the family peacemaker.” Trevor heard the admiration in his voice, and he hadn’t had to try to put it there.
His father laughed.
“Peacemaker, ha. I was the one most willing to mix it up and get in people’s faces. Or use my fists, if need be.” He shook his head. “And maybe that is a peacemaker in this crazy clan of ours. But Mark held a special place, only it was slowly killing him, and we didn’t even notice.”
“What happened?”
Their eyes met for a second before Trevor had to focus back on the highway. “Mark had enough. He told us he was leaving in the fall, after he’d helped with one more harvest. It was strange to think of him being gone, but when the time rolled around, we mostly accepted it.”
“Then he left?” It didn’t sound that terrible. It didn’t sound like a secret that needed to be kept for thirty years.
“He left, and John went quiet. We thought they were just missing each other—you know that weird connection some twins seem to have? But John faded away more and more, until the morning he didn’t show up for chores.” Randy’s knuckles were white on the armrest where he clutched it. “We found him later that day. In the dugout beside the barn.”
Jesus Christ. The truck lurched as Trevor snapped it back into the proper lane on the highway, his heart in his stomach. “You think he killed himself?”
Randy made a noise of pain. “God, this isn’t the time to be telling you this—”
Trevor pulled off the side of the road into the next rest stop, hitting the brakes and jerking the truck to a halt as soon as he could. He twisted toward his father. “What the hell happened?”
His dad took a deep breath. “Yeah, I think John killed himself. I bet now he would’ve been diagnosed with depression or something, and it’d only been Mark who’d pulled him through for so long. Once that buffer was gone, he got worse and worse until he didn’t think there was any other way out.”
Heart wrenching and stupid. “It was nobody’s fault,” Trevor said.
“I know that now, but in those days it was a lot harder to understand. And then we couldn’t get hold of Mark to let him know—he’d fallen off the face of the earth as if he didn’t give a damn what had happened. So we got angry, and we set blame. Ben and George, and me. Mike, he tried his best to make us see reason, but we weren’t having any of it.”
