Twist My Heart

by Brooke Taylor

  With intense, watchful eyes, he dared me to make a noise as his hand shifted up. The loss of its warmth between my thighs was greatly missed as it slid up to my less appreciative belly. At my whimper, he cocked a brow to remind me of our game. Ready to beg for his hand’s return, I silently moaned, feeling his strong fingers ducked back down. This time they tunneled beneath the mesh, his rough pads passing over my sex. Skin on heated skin. I bit back a throaty groan, swallowing it down whole.

  At my struggle, flares flashed in his emerald eyes. He liked having control as he tortured me with pleasure. God help me, so did I.

  My lips jammed together with bruising force as pleasurable cries threatened to escape. His strong finger slid hot and wet along my center. Ohhhh…dear…lord. He was quick to catch my head jerking back in ecstasy before it banged against the mirror.

  “You’ve been thinking about me, haven’t you?” He flashed a wide and devilish smirk as his lone finger slipped and teased, circling easily. “Thinking about French fries wouldn’t do this to you.”

  I shook my head, clamping my lips tight against the howl roaring behind them. Only you do this to me, hung in the haze of my brain, but this was the Quiet Game and I wanted to win whatever prize awaited me at the end, even if it killed me. And good lord, I might die the most deliriously wonderful death if it did.

  “Get used to it, Tigger. I’m going to give you lots to think about.” His fingers teased a circle through my hair before skirting down my neck. His thumb settled against the pulse there. The tha-thumping pound of life rushed through my veins, so much stronger whenever he touched me. But with the way he was touching me now—dancing and dipping dangerously into my dark places—my pulse threatened to burst right through my skin. The fact it hadn’t yet made me feel invincible.

  His hold slid from my neck, his fingertips stuttering across my skin. His brows furrowed as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was feeling. His caress skimmed down the side of my breast and the slope of my side, until his grip bit hungrily into my hip. The only loss of his control he’d allowed me to witness.

  Desire and need coursed through me like nothing I could’ve ever imagined. I edged my legs edged wider, inviting him closer. Unable to hold it together any longer, I let my jaw drop open. His mouth crushed into my gaping one, less to kiss me and more to silence me. His tongue wrapped with mine, giving it something to do other than alert every mall cop in a mile radius to the glorious debauchery taking place in the women’s lingerie department.

  Bracing himself again, he broke free from my mouth, momentarily breathless. His eyes feral, despite his tender, whispered words. “Forgive me for making this fast. We don’t want the saleslady to check on you and have a heart attack.”

  His tongue pushed in again, filling my mouth at the same time as a thick, strong finger thrust deep inside of me. My eyelids dropped as I absorbed this new wave of awesome pleasure.

  His open palm slapped the glass mirror, the noise punctuating the way he pulled his mouth from mine as if it took some force and pain for him to do so. “Open.” My eyes, legs, and sex all responded to his low command. “I want you to see what you do to me.”

  What I do to him? I was the one whose body was spiraling feverishly out of control.

  I hitched a knee up his thigh, taking it as high as I could go. Soon I was digging my heel into his hardened ass as I tried desperately to hold on while the earth seemingly crumbled beneath me. He hooked his arm under my other knee and lifted my whole body off the ground as he pushed upright. My back, bare save for a few thin straps, flattened against the cold mirror taking most of my weight as I slid upward.

  His hot mouth came down over my mesh-covered breast. The spearing tip of his tongue flickered over the silky yet abrasive fabric. His teeth gently and not-so-gently took my sensitive nipple over and over again through the delicate netting, wrecking any grasp on sanity I might’ve dared to believe I had.

  His finger thrust several lusciously deep strokes before I felt it crook and make a ‘come here’ motion. I willingly obliged. Right here. Right now. Yes, sir. Not that I had much choice. I was driven over the edge of stability and control instantaneously. I couldn’t tell if I was plummeting downward or soaring upward, only that I didn’t want to ever stop tumbling. Never. Ever.

  He’d had two commands—stay quiet and keep my eyes open. Both were now losing battles. Bundles of nerves and energy rolled up, tightly fisting before shattering and pulsing through me as my body bucked in the palm of his hand.

  My eyes rolled back behind my closing lids, blocking the hot intensity burning in his. If he objected, I couldn’t hear it. A string of amazed curses and holy affirmations hit high decibels in my mind. I struggled to silence my primal cries, resorting to biting down on my own forearm as the storm shuddered through me. I didn’t care if I left teeth marks. I didn’t care if I drew blood. Pleasure like this had to come with some pain.

  “You’re fucking gorgeous. But you coming for me…” He growled against my breast. “How am I supposed to handle this kind of beauty?”

  Only when my nerve endings quelled to an occasional pulsing roil and my body hung limp, slumped against his shoulder, did he lower me back to the ground, withdrawing his hand from my panties.

  He moved like he was supercharged while I drifted along in a haze of happiness. Cupping my shoulder, he whirled me to face the mirror. My palms splayed out on the fogged glass to stabilize me from turning into a puddle on the floor. I didn’t recognize the thoroughly sated look in my eyes as my reflection stared nose-to-nose back at me, but it was all me for the first time since the tornado.

  With a grin, he pulled his knife out of his pocket and flicked the wicked blade out. In two quick strikes, he’d sliced the tags off the lingerie set. “I’ll go pay for these and let the saleslady know you’ll be wearing them out.”

  Over my shoulder, he looked into my mirrored reflection, his expression full of pride as he tilted his head and lifted a brow. “And you didn’t think I could get you done in one, Tiggs.”

  My brain, still floating in tranquil mush, barely questioned his unusual comment. My mind knew about orgasms being pleasurable, but in no way did it prepare me for what had happened to my body.

  “You know, you can talk now, Tigger. Quiet Game’s over. You won. Say something.”

  All I could manage was a breathy, sighed, gasping, gulping, “Holy… Wow… Nik. That was a surprise.”

  A slow, knowing smile spread over his lips at my stunned response. He palmed my ass cheek with a patting grasp. “Oh, Tigger, this is nothing compared to the other surprises I have in store for you.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Thea’s shopping spree ended over a thousand dollars later exactly where it began—the barricade of blues. She’d stretched every dollar if the sheer multitude of bags Nik guarded from his seat in women’s shoes was any indication. This after one trip out to the car to drop off bags and check on Titan already. Nik had naïvely expected the shopping trip to only take a few minutes when he’d agreed to bring the dog along, but luckily the overcast day and cool spring temperature kept Titan very comfortable.

  At every department Thea hit, Nik offered to help fund her, but she insisted on using the money from the purse. With each purchase she slipped an IOU scrap into her wad of cash. Still, Nik planned to help her if it turned out the money wasn’t hers. While his E-8 payrate as a SEAL had been rather pathetic considering his skill level and the fact his life was constantly on the line, years of simple living, along with insurance money from his family’s crash and a few smart investments, had left him wealthy. He understood, admired even, Thea’s desire to take care of herself. Still, he longed to buy her something more than sexy lingerie.

  He wanted her to have something when she left. Something she could remember him by. A way to stay connected after her memories came back and she went running home. The inevitability of that was something he needed to keep reminding himself of, even though the thought of her leaving made him
want to ram his fist into a wall.

  So far there’d been no sign of anyone suspicious following her, only average idiots checking her ass out before realizing they were in the crosshairs of Nik’s death glare. That’s right, gentleman, throat punches are free all day, every day.

  He kicked his booted feet up on the shoe salesman’s stool, folded his arms across his chest, and watched with tired eyes as Thea worked up the courage to approach her mark—an attractive, red-haired woman she’d determined had a similar body shape and the perfect pair of jeans. If there was ever a time he could get eight hours of good solid sleep, this would’ve been it.

  * * * *

  After the beautiful chaos my body had been treated to in the dressing room, I could barely make out people’s faces for at least an hour. The woman very well could’ve been right beside me and I would’ve only seen slender shapes of red and black and blue with peeks of peachy skin. I’d also stopped checking price tags. Apparently I was the kind of girl who took a bury-my-head-in-the-shoe-department stance on my post-orgasmic fiscal irresponsibility. But this wasn’t about me.

  This was about her. My muse.

  She stole my breath away. Seriously. I gasped. She didn’t seem real. Her hair in varying shades of red—ombré popped into my mind—was perfect. Her face was flawless. Her clothes immaculate and stylish. And yet, everything was simple—a loose ponytail of her flame-like hair pulled over to one side, dark mascara, a hint of blush, and a swipe of cranberry gloss.

  I’d sought out and purchased a similarly loose-fitting, wide-necked black top like the one carelessly dripping off her shoulder. Then quickly returned to the lingerie department to grab up a cranberry-colored camisole with thin silky straps. And I’d just finished handing over a fistful of cash for a pair of suede booties in nude even though my bruised ankle protested against the torture.

  The only thing missing was the damn pants, and wouldn’t you know it, my muse was headed right where I needed her most. My stomach fluttered and flipped at the prospect of following this woman into the tenth circle of hell—women’s jeans.

  I’d already figured out my size for most clothes—with only three or four options and a little trial and error I had a fair idea of what would fit. But the jeans were sized with different numbers and not just one number, but sometimes even two.

  And what was up with the ones sized with words—skinny, loose, reverse…boyfriend? Fierce? Calm? Total Control? Ridiculous.

  Nik’s only encouragement was a shooing motion with his fingers to hurry me along. I scowled at him. “Please talk to her for me.”

  “She’ll assume I’m hitting on her and we’ll end up in the dressing room having a threesome. Is that really what you want?”

  His bored smirk told me he was kidding, but I still huffed, “If it will get me those jeans, maybe.”

  “I’m down for whatever you are, Tiggs. But, odds of having a threesome go up substantially when one of the women initiates it.” His eyes dared me to ask him how he knew.

  “Ugh! We’re not proposing a ménage à trois, we’re asking for help buying jeans.”

  “We aren’t. You are.” He’d lost patience with this whole shopping mission about thirty seconds after we’d left women’s lingerie over two hours ago. To be honest, it hadn’t taken me much longer. But buying clothes made it feel a little less like my future would be spent in an orange jumpsuit and besides, I had an outfit to complete.

  “What am I supposed to say to her? ‘Hi, I’m a fugitive amnesiac. All I have to my name is a gun and a stolen purse, but would you mind helping me find the perfect pair of jeans?’ Yeah…no.”

  He cocked a dark eyebrow. “How about, ‘Your ass is smokin’ hot in those, what kind are they’?”

  My hands went to my hips. “And you wonder why she might assume you’re hitting on her?”

  He hitched a shoulder. “Tell her you’re ex-Amish. It would explain why you’ve never bought jeans.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him.

  “Go. Make friends.” He leaned back, knees spread, arms crossed over his chest. His eyelids dropped as if he were taking a nap. As I headed off, he added, “Let me know which dressing room for the ménage and when to be à trois.”

  I grabbed a sparkly red pump from the rounder of samples and flung it at him. The jerk caught it even with his eyes closed. Which left me to make my approach alone.

  Talking to a perfect stranger shouldn’t be too hard. It was simply talking to someone who doesn’t want to talk to you. She was probably really busy. Yeah, I shouldn’t bother her.

  I took a couple steps back. Maybe I could pick out enough details from the jeans she was wearing to match them with ones from the wall. Dark wash. Ankle length. The fit looked slimming. Was slim the same as skinny? Basic pockets. Did the leather patch on the back have the brand name? I leaned closer. She sidestepped and stared wide-eyed at me.

  Oh God! Busted staring at her ass. I swung my gaze to Nik, hoping he’d come rescue me, but no…the jerk was laughing. And not just a little bit.

  “Asshole.”

  Shock played over the woman’s features.

  “Did I say that out loud? I’m sorry. I do that. I wasn’t meaning your asshole.” Dear lord! “I meant my asshole. I mean—I was calling him an asshole.”

  You’ve said asshole four times now.

  She followed my flustered gesturing to Nik.

  He lifted his hand in a lazy wave before he pointed to her, to me, and finished off with his thumb back at himself before tilting it up. I made wide eyes at him and shook my head while mouthing, ‘No!’

  Dropping his chin, he laughed again. The jerk still looked irresistibly sexy.

  My muse flashed an awkward smile, but didn’t run away. In fact, she seemed stuck in place, her hand jammed in her purse. She probably had her finger on her phone ready to hit 9-1-1.

  “Sorry. He’s…” Teasing me about having a threesome with you. “Being an asshole.”

  What was one more, right?

  Five. Five is what one more was.

  Deep breath. “He’s irritated at how long it’s taking me to buy jeans.”

  “Men can be such impatient shoppers.” She glanced around, no doubt hoping for a way out.

  Ugh, think…think… Distract her…no, flatter her! Everyone likes to be flattered. Except for Nik. I glanced over at the shoe department, but Nik had leaned over the counter to talk to the shoe salesman. Crap. I was on my own. Flattery it was.

  “I really like the jeans you’re wearing. You’ve got great style. Where did you get them?”

  The hard freeze to her features looked like panic. But she swiftly added, “They were my sister’s.”

  She’d yet to truly make eye contact. Her rapid words attempted to brush me off. All polite signs for me to leave her the hell alone.

  Yeah, I couldn’t do that.

  “What are they? Fierce?” As she shifted away, I spewed out in desperation, “I’m Amish.”

  Her stunning blue eyes narrowed as they angled my direction. “Amish?”

  I nodded.

  She looked me dead on for the first time. An expression I couldn’t quite identify passed over her features. Indecision? Confusion? Worry? Fear? I wasn’t sure, but relief flooded me when she finally shook it off and laughed. “You say ‘asshole’ a lot for an Amish girl.”

  Noticed that, huh?

  Her eyes twinkled with amusement and intelligence. She knew I was full of it. Lying to her. But for some reason, it was making her stay and talk to me. So I went with it. “I’m ex-Amish. I curse and wear jeans now. Or I will once I figure out how to buy them. Please help me?”

  “Um, I…I’m not really supposed to… I’m waiting for my friend who should be here any moment.”

  Not only was I being weird, I clearly intended to extend my weirdness with her even longer. No doubt a trillion more excuses were rolling through her mind.

  “Please?”

  She glanced around the store before her eyes met mine again.
“You really need help?”

  It sounded like a question, but I’m sure she meant it as a statement. “Yes. Please, just pretend I’m your sister. Who is ex-Amish. And says ‘asshole’ too many times.”

  Emotions I couldn’t quite identify seemed to crack the clear blue of her eyes like they were glass—doubt? grief? She swallowed hard. “My sister did like to cuss.”

  Then, with a nervous twitch of a smile she held her hand out. “I’m, ah…Aimee.”

  “Thea.” Okay, weird. First time I said my own name aloud. “Nice to meet you, Aimee.”

  “I bet we’re close to the same size. This brand always fits amazing, and this one is really popular, too.” She quickly snagged several pairs from different areas before hustling me toward the dressing room. It was almost as if she were trying to hide or hide me, but then I remembered she’d told me her friend was due any minute and she was in a hurry.

  Before I went inside, I turned to see Nik had left the shoe department. Probably checking on Titan or using the restroom, but odds were a hundred percent I’d give him a black eye if he turned up in the dressing room naked.

  I shimmied the first pair of jeans on and nearly wept. They fit perfectly—comfortable but form-fitting. Aimee agreed as she watched me view them in the mirror. “Those look awesome. Your fiancé won’t be able to keep his hands off you, though.”

  Her assumption struck me as odd. I started to explain how Nik wasn’t my fiancé, but didn’t want to get into a whole thing. I was still a fugitive who needed to be careful with what I revealed.

  She did a half turn in the mirror. The pair she’d tried on looked great too. Our nervous energy soon turned to laughter as we tried on more styles before working our way toward some other options she thought I’d like. In the end, I found several pairs to purchase, and even took the tags off one pair of jeans to wear out with a slouchy, super-soft, white tee. I handed everything to the clerk at the register, and as I waited for her to ring me up, I got up the nerve to touch the tattoo I’d been eyeing on Aimee’s forearm. My fingers danced across her inked skin with a jolting shock. I jerked back from the quick sting and stared wide-eyed at her.