Buried Alive

by Brown, Stacey Marie

  Rhys was insatiable, rousing me four more times during the night. Not that I was complaining. It actually might have been me inciting it at least two of those. I couldn’t seem to curb my appetite for him, couldn’t seem to get close enough, or get enough of him. Even when he left me boneless and hoarse, I wanted more.

  “Love seeing you in my T-shirt.” A deep, gravelly voice came from behind me, tickling my ear, hands gripping my thighs, pulling me back into him. He wore only his boxer briefs, and those barely contained him. “Though, I might want it back.”

  I curved back into his bare chest, my body responding to his touch. His fingers drifted up my legs.

  “Damn.” He moaned into my neck.

  Guess he found I wasn’t wearing any underwear.

  He palmed my thighs, opened my legs, and slid his fingers inside me. I groaned and arched my back.

  “This shirt?” He bit at my ear. “I’m wearing it today for training... after I fuck you in it.”

  His declaration was like detonating a bomb inside me, exploding me with raw need. We had spent all night exploring each other; right then I simply needed him. I desperately wiggled down his briefs, already bending for him. He clutched my hips and without hesitation, pushed into me, forcing a cry from my lips. He drew out before plunging in again mercilessly.

  “Oh my god. More.” I growled, pushing against the cupboards, returning his fierce rhythm. “Harder.”

  Rhys obliged my request, bending me till I was flat on the counter, somehow reaching even deeper. Sweat started to trail down my back, unbelievable pleasure sizzling up my muscles. I could feel my orgasm blistering inside me.

  “No. Not yet.” He hissed through his teeth, pulling out of me. I cried out in rebuttal, my chest heaving for air. He spun me around, picking me up, and tossed me up on the island. He grabbed my knees, yanking me to the edge of the counter, taking one leg and putting it over his shoulder as he thrust back into me.

  I threw back my head and parted my lips in a silent scream. Bliss blinded me, tearing me from reality. An orgasm tore through me, and I gripped down on him. Cries vibrated the room with his name tossed somewhere in there. He pushed in even farther, sending another round of pleasure through me and making me shake. He roared as he emptied himself inside me.

  It took several moments for both of us to catch our breath, to come back to earth.

  “Holy shit,” Rhys rumbled, his chest still heaving.

  “Yeah.” I licked my bottom lip, dazed.

  He gripped my ankle, putting my leg gently down as he pulled out of me. The moment he did, I wanted him back. What was he doing to me?

  Shuffling over to the sink, he dampened a cloth and came back to me, wiping my thighs. His black hair was messy. The morning light reflected off his eyes, his cheeks pink from exertion, scruff lining his strong jaw. His tongue darted out to touch his lips, making my chest clench.

  Brutal. Beautiful.

  I reacted before even thinking, running my hand up his jawbone and cupping his cheek. He stopped, peering up at me, our gazes locking. I didn’t know what he saw in my expression, but he stepped closer, gripping my face. He brought my mouth to his, kissing me slowly and deeply. Languidly. Every kiss from Rhys I could feel throughout my entire body. But this kiss was different. I had this sensation of my body being flooded with warmth.

  “I hope you’re awake. Not too hungover.” The door slammed closed as Graham’s voice and shoes echoed along the tile from the entry.

  “Crap.” I jumped, tugging the T-shirt down my hips. Rhys moved, blocking me, before Graham strolled in.

  “I’ve set up an interview this morning. I need you ready—oh Jesus…seriously?” Graham sighed, shaking his head, turning his back to us. “Remind me to never eat on that table again.”

  “Get out, Graham.” Rhys was still naked. I peered over his shoulder while his hands rubbed my thighs.

  “The amount of times I’ve seen your ass, Rhys…”

  “I said get out.”

  Graham whipped around, his forehead crinkling with shock and confusion, his gaze running from Rhys to me. He hesitated for a moment before he silently turned, walked out of the cabin, and shut the door behind him.

  “He didn’t look too happy about that.”

  Rhys let out a breath, his hands still trailing up and down my legs. “Because I’ve never told him to leave before.”

  My head jerked to him. Why now? Why me? I could sense the questions floating through. But I didn’t want to really know the answers. The idea caused me to wiggle off the table, forcing him to take a step back.

  “I better get going. See if I still have a job.”

  “No.” He trapped me between the island and himself, a grin slinking up into his eyes. “Not before I get my shirt back.” He tugged at the hem of the cotton.

  I leaned back, folding my arms, twisting my mouth in deep contemplation.

  “I’ve given this great thought.” I looked into his face. “And I’m going to have to decline your request.”

  “Excuse me?” His eyebrows shot up. “You are denying me my own shirt?”

  “Yes.” I leaned in closer, my hormones taking notice of his naked physique. “On the simple reason that it looks better on me.”

  “I won’t deny it.” His gaze turned hungry, drifting down my curves. “But I really wanted to wear that shirt today.”

  I shoved his arms away, lining my feet up toward the stairs.

  “Guess you’re going to have to fight me for it then.” I grinned over my shoulder and took off at a sprint up the steps.

  His pounding footsteps were right behind, catching up with me as I entered the bedroom. His arm swept around my middle as he picked me up. I squeaked as he tossed me back on the bed, leaping for me. I tried to scramble away, but his fingers wrapped around my ankle, tugging me back. He dragged me across the bed as he crawled over me. His knees and arms boxed me underneath him, his gaze sizzling with fervor. I sensed something primal and dark about him which reached out to me. Called for me to join him. A kindred spirit of pain and sorrow. It brought mine to the surface, tired of being locked away. I wanted to be whole, to claim all parts of myself.

  “Mine.” His dark irises stayed on me, but he went for the T-shirt. My arms went up as he tugged it over my head and tossed the shirt to the side. His attention fixed on the curve of my breasts.

  “I’ll let you borrow it.” My former cheeky boldness crawled back to the surface.

  “Generous of you.” He smirked, taking my breast into his mouth. He had the power to take me from a shaking, exhausted mess to someone desperate for him again. The feeling made air get stuck in between my ribs. Sex had always been fun. Good. Sometimes great. But none of those things even slightly covered what Rhys did to me with just a kiss. He tangled me up and set me free.

  His hot mouth dragged down my stomach, his fingers running over the scars on my right leg and hip, an eyebrow hitching up.

  “An accident from when I was a kid.” Instinctively, my arm moved down, covering them up. I had grown used to them, but seen by others, in the full light of day, felt like a window into my nightmare, telling my story.

  “Don’t.” He nudged my hand away. “Don’t hide a single inch of skin from me.” His mouth skimmed over the long, indented scars crisscrossing over my hipbone. “Personally, I find them sexy. War wounds.” He followed the one down my leg, going lower, nipping the inside of my thigh; his tongue trailed up to my core. I forgot all about my blemishes. My hands tangled in his hair as I hissed with pleasure.

  He didn’t hold back.

  And this time, I didn’t either. I let go and gave over every ounce of control.

  I’m almost positive the cabin at the bottom of the hill did hear me.

  Beads of perspiration lined my forehead, the grill sizzling with endless orders of eggs and bacon for room orders. Almost all of us were on room deliveries, the restaurant still quiet. After lunch the dining area would start to fill up, but this morning, guests were h
ungover and tired, all demanding room service.

  “Can I get the eggs Benedict, Freddie? I think I ordered it yesterday.” I grinned as I tapped at the empty spot on the line.

  Freddie peeked at me through heavy lashes, glaring at me, his face set in a pissed-off frown.

  “Ah, did someone drink too much last night?” I taunted.

  “Don’t push it, Sprout,” he growled. Anyone else would back away, fearful of his bite, but I simply winked at him. “And why the hell are you so chipper this morning?”

  “Because she got laid, unlike you.” Siena squeezed in beside me, bumping my hip with hers. My cheeks heated as I jerked to look at my friend with wide eyes. I hadn’t told her a thing.

  “Ohhhh hell…I did not need to hear that,” Freddie groaned, slamming down a pan.

  I continued to stare at Siena in wonder. She grinned, twisting to face me. “Please, girl. It’s written all over you. You are glowing so fucking bright I’m sure NASA could pick up on you.”

  My eyes darted to my father’s office. I was not keen on him hearing any of this.

  “Don’t worry.” She zipped at her lips. “I’ll keep it secret.”

  Both Freddie and I snorted.

  “Okay. I’ll keep it secret at least from him.” She shrugged. “But he might read about it in the paper anyway.”

  “What?” A cold finger ran down my spine.

  “The press is swarming out there.” She motioned out the kitchen door. “Dad had to finally force them out of the hotel.”

  My heart quickened, but a sinking feeling dropped through my throat to my gut.

  “Why-why would it have to do with me?”

  “Dad said they kept asking for you.” Siena looked at the door and back to me. “Maybe I should go out there. You know…talk to them.” She flipped her hair.

  “No.” Knots coiled around my throat. My hope was it was simply because someone saw me leaving Rhys’s cabin this morning, but somewhere in my gut, I knew.

  They found out.

  They found me.

  In the blistering hot kitchen, cold sweat trailed down my back. Deep-seated fear had me gripping the counter to keep straight.

  “Girl, you knew they’d eventually figure it out. They’re reporters. And you’re fucking the golden boy of snow.”

  I let my guard down. Stupid.

  “Siena…” I took a step toward the door.

  “I’ve got your back. Go. Hide out at our place.”

  “Thank you.” I reached over and squeezed her hand, still hoping this was about Rhys and not me. Not the real me.

  Grabbing my jacket, I flicked up the hood and headed for the back door. I peeked out, seeing the snowy lot empty. Relief washed over me as I slipped out, turning for Siena’s apartment.

  “There she is.” I heard a woman yell, my heart dropping. “Hannah!”

  A stampede of feet came after me, my name screamed aloud. I whirled around. It was as though I had stepped into the past, flicking my anxiety switch. Air halted in my chest as they ran for me, lights flashing, cameras pointed in my direction, microphones stuffed at my face.

  “Is it true? You and Rhys Axton?”

  “Does he know who you are?”

  Everything in me froze.

  “You used to go by Brennley Evans? Isn’t that right? The youngest female snowboarding Olympic hopeful before the accident.”

  Oh no.

  “Tell us why you disappeared for nine years.”

  “Can you tell us what really happened on the mountain?” a man reporter yelled.

  “You were once dating Jonah Axton. Are you now dating his younger brother?”

  The world tipped to the side, plummeting me off, with nothing to hold on to.

  “Your brother, Bryan, Jonah, and you were all on your way to the Olympics. Brennley, what happened before the avalanche? How did you survive?”

  Brennley didn’t.

  Spots started to dot my eyes, air pattering shallowly in my lungs. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. I had so many panic attacks in my time I knew what was happening to me, but the lights kept bursting across my vision as the reporters moved around me, closing in like a pack of hyenas.

  The world I had built, the peace I thought I had walled around my tiny world, shattered, leaving me exposed and scared. Memories crashed into me, along with images and nightmares I spent years trying to work through and learn to live with. A tragedy everyone called it.

  But I knew the truth. The tragedy was mine to bear.

  My mind snapped me back to when I was fifteen, the press hounding me, desperate to be the one to get the exclusive. I felt scared and traumatized both physically and mentally.

  “Brennley!”

  Click. Click. Click.

  “Brennley, look over here. Tell us what happened.”

  Flash. Flash. Flash.

  Cameras and microphones shoved in my face, the feel of people crowding around me, pushing and bumping me, sucking the air from the atmosphere. My entire world had been destroyed, ripped from me in seconds, but they clawed and scraped for the last pieces, gnawing on my fifteen-year-old carcass, ripping the last bits of sanity from me.

  Trapped. Suffocated. Entombed.

  And it was happening again, forcing me back into my nightmares. Panic itching and clawing over my skin, gripping my chest.

  Just because I made it off that hill alive and in one piece didn’t mean I was truly living. My scars, both external and internal, were a constant reminder.

  I had been buried alive.

  Chapter Thirty

  Brennley

  (Nine Years Earlier)

  “Brennley Evans is following in her brother’s footsteps.” The announcer’s voice boomed over the loudspeaker while the crowd jumped up and down. “She is the youngest to win the girls’ competition and gain a spot on the women’s Olympic team.”

  I raised my arms in triumph, happiness bursting through my pores. Holy shit! I did it! My grin was so wide my lips hurt as I held up the bouquet of flowers in one hand and my competition medal in the other.

  “Brennley! Whooo-hooo!” My brother’s voice bellowed over the crowd. I found him in the crowd, cheeks flushed with excitement, his bright green eyes wide with pride. He held up a fist, doing our “rock on” sign.

  Bryan. My brother. My idol.

  Overwhelming adoration, pride, and love cascaded over me as I grinned back at him, making our sign back to him, my legs bouncing up and down, unable to contain my excitement.

  Almost four years older than me, he was one of my best friends. My other stood next to him, screaming as loud. Jonah Axton. With black hair and sexy dark-as-night eyes, he took my breath every time I looked into them. My heart thumped at seeing him. I had been in love with him since he came here to train with Bryan’s coach three years ago, but it wasn’t until this last year he started to see me as more than a friend. He was a year younger than my brother, and the three of us had become inseparable. We did everything together: training, eating, playing.

  And now we were all going to the Olympics together.

  The Three Musketeers. All for one, and one for all.

  My heart was filled with so much exhilaration I danced on top of the box where they placed me, busting out some moves, my wavy blonde hair bouncing around my face. The crowd started to laugh and cheer.

  I was not the shy, quiet type. Boldfaced Brennley had become my nickname on and off the slope. It first started because of the fierce expression I’d make when I went through a course. But then it started to spill out into my everyday life, where I had no filter and no fear about anything. I had only been snowboarding for five years, but I had already made a name for myself.

  Eventually I climbed down from the winner’s box and ran to my boys. I knew my parents couldn’t get away from the hotel, but seeing my brother filled the slight hole their absence left.

  Bryan reached me first, swinging me around in a bear hug. “I am so proud of you, Bren.”

  “I can’t beli
eve we are all going.” I squealed in utter excitement, squeezing him back. “Olympics, baby!”

  He dropped me back down on my feet, giving me one last hug before I turned to Jonah. His dark hair was tucked in a beanie, his black eyes glistening with happiness. My heart tipped over as I ran to him, feeling his arms tuck me in close. He leaned back enough to kiss me lightly on the lips.

  Cameras flashed around us.

  My brother huffed and spun away from us. He didn’t mind the idea of Jonah and me, but didn’t like to watch us. Not that we were overly touchy in front of him. In fact, Jonah was always extremely conscious about not being so when it was just the three of us.

  My hand reached up to his face, wanting to drown in his kiss, but he cleared his throat, pulling away.

  “Congrats,” he whispered to me, brushing my temple with his lips before stepping back. “We are going to have to celebrate tonight.”

  “Hell. Yeah.” My brother nodded, his eyes wide with agreement. My gaze drifted between the two, my chest aching with happiness.

  My brother, my boyfriend, and I were going to the Olympics.

  I had no doubt we all would bring medals home.

  Life was frickin’ awesome.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Hannah

  “Brennley?” My name snapped me back to the present, where I squinted against the cameras being shoved in my face.

  “Hey! Get away from my daughter!” My mother’s angry voice shouted from behind me, her heels crunching the snow as she jogged to me. She came to my side, sliding an arm around me. “You are vultures! You don’t care what lives you destroy.” She twisted me away from them, leading us to our house. “If you don’t stay back, I’m calling the police.”

  As only a mother could, her tone actually had them pausing. Temporarily stunned by her anger, they let us slip away, only to find more around the lodge who were screaming and crowding us until we got to the house.

  Trauma plastered my lips together and shut down my mind. I couldn’t think or do anything except let my mom guide me away.