The Score (Massey Security Duet Book 2)

by S. Nelson

  We moved together.

  We writhed together.

  We moaned and grunted together.

  “I’m so close,” I cried, moving my hands to clutch the covers, arching off the bed as much as I could while his weight held me in place.

  “Not yet. Don’t come yet,” he growled, bending his right leg forward and throwing my leg over his hip. The force with which he fucked me pushed the boundary of pain, but my pleasure was so much more.

  He nuzzled his head into my neck, licking and sucking at my skin, baring his teeth and grazing them over my collarbone before nipping me.

  “Ford… I’m… I’m gonna…” I lost my breath as my vision blurred, every cell in my body electrified. He tortured my body with his own, digging his fingers into my thigh while he teased me with his mouth. His tongue. His teeth.

  His grunts turned into groans, his cock pulsing inside me while he thrust deep and hard. In the blink of an eye, he pulled back before pushing my legs toward me so he could go deeper.

  “Am I hurting you?” he asked, all the while never breaking his stride. He derailed my orgasm with the switching of my body but brought it back to life in seconds.

  I shook my head in response, the ability to speak too much for me.

  “Good. Because I don’t think I can stop,” he confessed, licking his lips and flaring his nostrils. He looked possessed, but in the sexiest way possible.

  Missing the heat of his body, I placed my hands on his chest, the drum of his heartbeat matching my own.

  The familiar pull started in my belly and spread through my pussy; the anticipation unbearable. When the first wave hit, I threw my head to the side. When the second pulse vibrated through me, I screamed, and when a third explosion surprised me, I reached for Ford to pull him closer.

  He swallowed my cries as I rode out the rest of my orgasm, his body detonating seconds later and joining me in the aftermath.

  * * *

  Cara

  Snuggled into his side with my head resting on his chest seemed like the most natural thing in the world. But it was us. Nothing about us was easy and expected.

  His heart rate slowed with every controlled breath, and I couldn’t stop myself from wondering what he was thinking. I wouldn’t dare ask, however, for fear he’d tell me something I didn’t want to hear. Possibly the truth. Maybe my own insecurities were clouding my thoughts, but I just couldn’t take the risk of Ford telling me that what we’d done was a mistake. Much like he said after our kiss on my birthday.

  Both instances had come out of left field. Although, this time allowed for a clearer head on both our parts, so for him to say or act like us having sex was a slipup, would wound me more than I’d ever let on.

  Instead of risking a rejection, I trailed my fingers over his heated skin, his muscles twitching every time I moved over a sensitive spot. When I made my way toward his lower right side and touched his scar, he grabbed my hand and stopped breathing.

  “What happened?” I tried to touch him again, but his grip was too tight. “Ford.”

  “Don’t, Cara. I can’t.”

  Against my better judgment, I pushed. “Does it have anything to do with Julia?” Gut instinct told me that his wound was somehow tied to his sister, and not from his time spent in the service.

  The entire time we laid there, we didn’t look at each other, but that changed when he shifted his body away from me, hopping off the bed before I realized what he was doing. He faced away from me, his posture rigid while he clenched his hands at his sides. Over and over.

  “Why won’t you talk about her?”

  “I’m not having this conversation with you.” Something about the way he said with you I found partially offensive.

  “Oh, so I’m good enough to have sex with but not good enough to talk to about anything personal?” My voice rose an octave, my defenses locking up tightly.

  Ford spun to face me. For as much as I wanted my attention to remain on his face, my eyes roamed his body, stopping a few seconds longer on his lower half than I intended. And even though I could appreciate the sight of him, I was upset.

  “That’s not what I meant.” He offered nothing further, crossing his arms over his chest and looking like quite the pissed-off specimen.

  “That’s how it sounded,” I replied. “I’m sure her death was hard on you and Owen, but it might help to talk about it.” His skin flushed and a vein in his neck strained against his skin, bulging and making him appear like he was set to explode any second.

  “Hard? It was hard on us?” he mocked with gritted teeth. “You have no idea what you’re talking about and I suggest you drop it before…”

  “Before what?” I just had to push.

  He didn’t answer my question, instead disappearing inside my bathroom, reemerging with his clothes. He hastily pulled up his boxer briefs, then his pants, zipping them but leaving the button undone.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I need to leave. I don’t want to say anything I’ll regret.” Instead of throwing on his shirt, he stood before me, motionless and quiet.

  “I just think if you’re able to share with me a little about her, about—” I stopped speaking when he took a threatening step toward me, his eyes wide and full of disbelief. I should’ve listened to him and kept my mouth shut about his sister because he went from irritated to beyond angry.

  “About what, Cara?” he spat, tossing his shirt to the floor. “Do you wanna know that the night she died she came to me for help? That she needed me, but I turned my back on her? Do you want to know that I turned to my baby sister, while she was high, and told her that if she didn’t get her shit together once and for all, that she was dead to me?”

  Ford threw his head back and covered his face with his hands, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. Every muscle in his body strained from the emotion, and I could only imagine the pain he felt right then.

  A moment of silence passed before he dropped his arms to his sides and schooled his expression. He advanced closer until his knees hit the edge of the bed. His voice was dangerously low when he spoke again. “Do you want to hear that she left crying, got in her car, and sped away? That she crossed lanes into oncoming traffic and died on impact?” Ford closed his eyes for several seconds before opening them again and pointing at his scar. “That I sliced open my side when I tried to get her out of the car? Are those the types of things you want to hear about?”

  By this time, I’d moved farther across the bed to put some distance between us. Not because I thought he’d physically hurt me, but to give him the space he needed.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered. Unshed tears had pooled in his eyes, but he managed to keep them at bay. He ignored my apology as he leaned down and placed his fists on the bed.

  “Since you’re so gung-ho about wanting to talk about all things personal, why don’t you tell me what the story is between you and Paul Adler.” His words were like a slap to the face, a punch to the gut. I hiccupped my next lungful of air, vigorously shaking my head. So much so, I made myself dizzy. “Why don’t you want to talk about it?” he taunted. “Huh? Is it because maybe you had an affair with your friend’s father? Did he dump you after you gave it up? Did you think he’d leave his wife for you?”

  “No,” I cried, clutching the sheet to my chest to shield me. His words tore me apart, ripped me open so wide I didn’t think I’d ever heal. “Stop.”

  “Stop what? Stop asking you about your past? About something you clearly don’t want to tell me?”

  I scrambled off the bed and retreated until my back hit the wall, shaking because of the confrontation. He walked toward me with purpose, stopping when he was but a foot away.

  “I didn’t want it,” I mumbled, but he didn’t hear me.

  “How does it feel to be pushed?” he asked, continuing to berate me.

  My head was hung low and I trembled standing there before him. “I didn’t want it,” I repeated, that time a little louder.
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  “You didn’t want what?” Anger clipped every word he spoke. “You didn’t want the affair? You thought he’d leave his wife? Was that it?” Ford had no idea what he was talking about, deriving assumptions of the nature of my involvement with Steph’s father, driving home what he truly thought of me. But he was wrong. So unbelievably wrong.

  Something about the tone of his voice forced me to raise my head and stare him down. The sneer on his face shoved me toward expelling all the pain and shame I’d carried inside me for the past eleven years, and before my brain could shut down the impulse, I released the words. Words I’d never said out loud before, not even to myself.

  “He raped me,” I yelled.

  I saw the moment my words hit their target, the muscles in Ford’s face relaxing right before his brows knit together and his mouth fell open. “What?”

  “He raped me,” I shouted louder, shoving at his chest. “I was only fourteen when he forced himself on me.” I didn’t want to do it. I tried to hold them back as best I could, but the tears flowed down my cheeks in rivers, my vision blinded by grief and humiliation.

  I hit Ford’s chest again and again, needing a place to focus the plethora of emotions raging through me. Over and over he allowed me to use him as a punching bag before he finally grabbed my wrists and pulled me into him, wrapping his arms around me and holding me impossibly close.

  I’d never felt more raw and visible in my life. Yet, I’d never experienced such a sense of relief before, either, the opposing emotions sparring inside me.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said, kissing the top of my head to try and console me. Soon enough, I found myself exhausted but calm. Not wanting to separate from him yet, I wrapped my arms around his waist and held on for dear life. Before I knew it, my anguish resurfaced, and I sobbed once more. “Shhh… I know.”

  We stood in the middle of my bedroom, me weeping against his chest and him rocking me until every one of my tears dried up. When I moved to back away, he released me but reached for my face, placing his hands on my cheeks. The bedsheet I’d been holding fell away and I stood before him completely naked in every way.

  “Cara…” His sympathetic tone tugged at my heart, but I’d done enough crying for one night. I didn’t have it in me to do it again. All I wanted to do was forget… about everything.

  Forget it happened all those years ago.

  Forget I blurted it out to Ford.

  Forget he now knew I’d been violated.

  “I can’t.” I shrugged away from him, folding my arms inward to cover me.

  “Who knows about this?” He walked the few feet toward the chair in the corner of my room and retrieved a robe I had thrown over the side. When he was next to me, he helped me put my arms through before cinching it shut with the belt. I was like a wandering child, lost and unaware of what to do or say next.

  “No one.”

  “You never told anyone?” He lifted my chin toward him. He repeated, “You never told?”

  I shook my head.

  “Not even Emily?”

  Fresh tears emerged as my chin quivered. “She doesn’t know.”

  “She knows something happened,” he offered, removing his hand and placing it on my upper arm.

  “What do you mean?”

  “That night, after the first incident with Kurt at the club, when I drove your sister home and Owen drove you, Emily told me what you were like as kids and that one day you just changed. And the timeframe matches up,” he concluded, flashing me a sympathetic smile.

  “Why are you being so nice to me?” I blurted, baffled by his sudden and overwhelming show of support. “After I pushed you about your sister?”

  “You upset me. A lot. And while the subject of Julia triggers me, especially now that you know why, you telling me that that bastard raped you…” He lost his words, but he didn’t have to say anything else. I knew what he was getting at. That me telling him I was raped trumped whatever anger he had about his sister.

  “You believe me.” I uttered the words without realizing they were sitting on the tip of my tongue.

  He tilted his head and leaned in close. “Of course, I do.”

  Here come the tears again.

  Ford pulled me in for yet another embrace and I let him. I’d been carrying around my secret for many years and I was tired.

  Tired of the burden.

  Tired of acting out because of what happened.

  Tired of excusing my behavior as rebellious and impetuous.

  Tired of the loneliness that accompanied the shame.

  “Will you stay with me tonight?” I asked, realizing how much I needed him. If he left me alone after I’d showed him a piece of my broken soul, I didn’t know what I’d do.

  Ford was silent as he guided me toward my bed, pulling back the covers and helping me under them. Afterward, he walked around to the other side, removed his pants, and climbed in next to me, repositioning me so that my head rested on his chest.

  Much like we’d been right before everything turned to hell.

  * * *

  Ford

  As I lay there, restless but not daring to move for fear I’d wake Cara, I couldn’t help but replay everything that happened between us.

  When I accompanied her on her date with Caverly, as if I had a choice in the matter, I was man enough to admit that my jealousies took over and got the better of me. Which was apparent when I started an argument with her when we arrived home, reminding her that she wasn’t allowed to date anyone until the threat against her family was abolished.

  Then I followed her upstairs and into her bathroom where everything came to a head. I’d lost mine when I rubbed my thumb over her bottom lip, wanting like hell to erase any trace of that bastard’s kiss.

  I warred with myself, knowing what I was about to do would complicate the dynamic between us, but I did it anyway.

  I kissed her.

  We had sex.

  She pushed me about Julia and I lost my temper.

  Then she revealed a secret she kept hidden from everyone.

  My blood boiled when I thought of what that bastard did to her, and when she was a kid, no less. The thoughts that ran through my head made my heart speed up, and I had to remind myself to calm down. There wasn’t a damn thing I could do about what happened. Since Cara never told anyone, she wouldn’t want me to tell anyone either, which tied my hands in what I could and couldn’t do. Hunter hadn’t found any substantial dirt on the guy. Nothing more than a couple of speeding tickets over the years. So, either Cara had been his only victim, or the others had been too afraid to say anything, as well.

  I drifted in and out of sleep over the next several hours, waking with a start, more than once, because of the dream that often plagued me.

  Julia’s accident.

  Her death.

  Sometimes, the dream was a true account of what happened that fateful night, and sometimes she was alive inside the car, pleading with me to help her. Other times, I’d been the one driving, my sister buckled into the passenger seat. I’d survive the wreck, but she never would.

  I lived with guilt over her passing every single day, and when Cara wouldn’t stop pushing me about her, I’d erupted. Owen often told me that it didn’t do me any good to keep shit bottled up inside and I suppose he was right.

  Waking with a start once more, I looked over at Cara, who was still sound asleep, then at her bedside clock. It read 7:30.

  “Shit!” I grunted, gently removing my arm from underneath her. I needed to leave before Owen started morning rounds and if he caught me in her bed, I wouldn’t hear the end of it, especially after all the shit I gave him about him and Emily.

  Gathering my clothes, I dressed quickly before taking one last look at Cara. She’d rolled over on her stomach, her blonde hair fanning all around her. The covers shifted lower and rested halfway down her back. All I wanted to do was crawl back into bed and wake her up, see if she was up for another round, but I couldn’t. Not only would that not b
e a good idea because my brother would catch us, but after what she revealed last night, I didn’t want to push her to do something she now might have reservations about.

  When I was fully dressed, I closed her bedroom door behind me and descended the staircase, rounding the corner and heading toward the kitchen.

  I was halfway across the room when a cell rang, vibrating on top of the counter. The rush of sound startled me because I’d been wrapped up with the memory of the prior evening. The phone finally silenced only to ring again. When I approached the device, I saw it was Cara’s, but the call ended before I could see who it was. I didn’t have to wait long to find out, however, because a few seconds later, her screen lit up again.

  Stephanie’s name flashed across the screen, and instantly I tensed. Did she know what happened all those years ago? I remember Cara said she’d never told anyone, but did her friend have an inkling about what her father did? Had he possibly done the same to his own daughter? My thoughts pinged from one to the other, concocting all sorts of possibilities, but the truth was, I may never know for sure.

  I swiped the screen before the call ended for the third time. “Hello,” I answered, attempting to sound casual and not pissed off.

  “Hello? Is this Cara’s phone?”

  “Yes.” Short and to the point.

  “Who is this?” Stephanie sounded confused, and I couldn’t say I blamed her.

  “Ford.”

  “Oh. Ford. Why are you… you know what? Never mind because it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you give Cara a message ASAP. I don’t care if she’s sleeping or not, which she probably is.” Her speech was rushed, and I couldn’t help but be nosy.

  “What is this about?”

  “Tell her that James Hollen is leaving the country for the next three weeks and if she wants a shot at meeting with him, she has to do it today. Otherwise, she might miss out on the biggest opportunity of her life.”