I didn’t argue. I did a kind of frigid hop over the cold hardwood floors and rushed to get the faucets running. I was halfway hoping that Riley would be delayed building the fire, but when the water was warm enough to thaw us out, I heard her behind me and quickly stepped under the showerhead. She joined me and we rinsed the chlorine from our clothed bodies in silence, avoiding touching each other in the confined space. Riley kept her right hand on the wall so as not to get the cast wet.
With her head under the water and her eyes closed, she looked younger than her twenty-six years. Her one-handed rinsing had a tense, desperate quality. I wanted to help but all I could do was stare. The agitated movements ceased and she opened her eyes, gazing directly into mine. Something passed over her face that was akin to fear, then arousal, and then the kind of wariness people have when they don’t know if they can trust someone.
A psychologist could probably tell you a lot about me based on the fact that seeing the emotions on Riley’s face sent me into overload. My dream, the heavy kissing, even my situation, all converged in an explosive mixture. The electricity crackling just below the surface exploded full force. The feeling was so foreign I was drunk with its power.
“Come here, Riley.” I was used to giving orders. “Put your hand up on the wall so your cast won’t get wet.”
Her reaction was automatic. She did as she was told, and the pink cast flashed obscenely in the corner of my eye. I stepped closer. Her agitation showed in the pulse beating at her throat.
I placed my hand on the back of her neck and kissed her firmly. Her lips quivered under mine, fanning my ardor like fresh air ignites a flame. I slid my free hand beneath her shirt and backed her against the wall, exploring the soft skin of her stomach. Riley inhaled and I felt a brief stiffening that could have been her last-ditch effort to get things back under control. I ignored her faint uncertainty. Fingers spread wide, I trailed up her muscled abdomen until I reached the soft skin of her breast. She flinched as I ran my thumb over the nipple of her right breast.
“Do you want me to stop?” I asked.
She shook her head, her lips forming the word “no.” I pulled her soaked T-shirt over her head, leaving her upper body exposed to my hungry eyes. My breath caught as I got my first look at the muscles I’d only recently touched for the first time. Riley brought up her free hand to cover herself, but I stopped her with a gentle hand on her wrist.
“No…please, I want to look at you.”
Her hand fell, but a quick glance at her face told me she was almost sick with apprehension. Why, I didn’t know. I had never seen anyone as beautiful as Riley Medeiros. Each muscle, each curve, was perfect. I stepped closer as I gently cupped her breasts in both hands and closed my mouth over one of her nipples.
In a small flurry of movement, Riley placed her hand against me, trying to push me away. I increased the pressure on her nipple and wiggled my hands beneath the elastic of her shorts. Gripping her ass, I pulled her into me and kissed her with renewed hunger.
She jumped as my hands glided over her breasts. Her skin felt silky beneath my fingers. She leaned back against the wall and her eyes closed as I touched her under the pretense of helping her wash. I gently coaxed water from the shower over her firm breasts and down her tapered stomach. Except for a soft inhalation, she didn’t move.
Hooking the waistband of her shorts, I squatted and slid them down her legs. From my position, I could see the rapid rise and fall of her stomach. Droplets disappeared into the dark thatch of hair and joined a stream of water that poured from her. I leaned in to kiss her, detecting the unmistakable scent of her arousal over the chlorine and the smell of soap. It was so faint, so light, that I almost thought I was imagining it. I kissed her gently, the water from the shower dousing my hair fully before I rose.
Riley’s lips were parted, and her eyes were closed. Her legs were spread just wide enough for me to stand between, and I placed my lips on the pulse at her neck and sucked gently.
“Foster, I can’t stand up,” she moaned weakly.
“Yes, you can, sweetheart. Just lean back,” I whispered, not bothering to move my lips from her neck. The whole time I kissed her, my eager hands continue to rove her body. When my fingers stroked her stomach, she jumped slightly, and I paused. I had never felt such a frantic need to pleasure someone, but I waited, preparing myself not to be disappointed if she wanted me to stop.
Her muscles felt like skin stretched across steel. She murmured something I took for encouragement and shifted my caresses to the water-slicked smoothness of her sex. She did jump again, but this time arched her back, inviting one of my fingers to slip between the lips of her sex. Her clitoris was full with her need, and the mere fact that she was so aroused sent my own arousal up a notch. I was surprised to feel the insistent heat between my own legs as I continued to stroke, and kiss, and prepare Riley for my entrance.
I should have taken more time with her, but I couldn’t. I had never felt rushed in lovemaking before, a fact that had gotten me called more names than I can mention. The lack of anything other than a vague sense of arousal had always given me a fairly steady hand. But with Riley, my hands shook and blood rushed in my ears. I couldn’t wait any longer. I sought and found her opening, pressing my thumb into her clitoris. I closed my eyes and prayed that I wasn’t hurting her as my finger slid into her tight opening. A slow shiver moved through her body, and I paused to let her get used to me. The water that sloshed down on my back had ceased to be a pleasure and now felt like one more thing that was keeping me away from Riley. Her hips were slowly relaxing, and I began to move my finger in and out of her. I wanted to enter her with one more finger but feared it would be too much, so I contented myself with pressing closer to her and putting firm pressure on her clitoris with my thumb.
Her hips began to take on a confidence as I withdrew my finger almost fully and slowly eased it back in. I took her nipple into my mouth, and she moaned and shifted her stance so her legs were farther apart. I tugged gently on her nipple and pressed firmly against her mound. I felt her muscles tighten around my finger once, and then begin to spasm. I didn’t hear her make a sound, but I looked up just in time to see a grimace cross her face. She gritted her teeth, head thrown back. A corded muscle stood out in her neck as she met her orgasm with a determination that aroused me no end. The grimace and the way her muscles tensed told me how powerful her release really was. The hands that held me close were incredibly gentle, and not once did she say a word.
I slowly and reluctantly withdrew from her and hugged her, resting my head on her shoulder. Finally, I leaned over to cut off the water. I could feel her staring at me, waiting for something that would tell her that it was okay, that we were okay.
“Riley, I don’t know what to say.” I stepped out of the shower, feeling exposed. I had been resisting making love with her all this time. I didn’t understand fully why I had given in. Hell, I hadn’t just given in, I had gone after her like I was in heat or something.
Riley followed me out of the shower, holding on to her soggy-looking cast. “It’s okay. I won’t expect more from you,” she said flatly.
Wrapping a towel around her body, she left the bathroom. Was she angry with me? Stunned, I watched her walk away. I felt certain I had pleased her: I had felt her body orgasm; the evidence of it was still on my hand. I thought she wanted…
I found her standing in front of the window, staring out into blackness. Ignoring my initial urge to just turn away and leave her be, I touched her lightly on the shoulder. “I thought you wanted this, Riley. I’m sorry if I upset you, if I moved too fast. I didn’t mean to.”
The shoulder beneath my hand began to shake, and I jerked my hand away as if scalded. Fear swept through me. I hadn’t imagined it, had I? Surely she hadn’t asked me to stop.
She turned to me then, in tears. “I did want you.”
“Then why are you crying? Did I do something wrong?”
“No, I guess I just realized.”
>
Sorrow strangled my breathing. Riley had finally clued in to what I’d known all along: our relationship had no real future. How could she ever be with someone like me? For as long as I was with her, she was at risk, too. I knew this, and had resisted my attraction for her because of it. “I realized how much I love you,” she said.
The words could have been spoken in another language. She watched me for a moment before turning away, embarrassed. “You don’t have to say anything. I already know how you feel.”
“No, you don’t understand. No one has ever said that to me.” I laid my head on her back. “I’m not going anywhere. At least, not if I can help it.”
I must have stumbled into the right words, because her body relaxed.
“I’ll give you all the space you need, but I can’t change how I feel,” she said.
“I don’t want you to. Can we just…can you hold me? I want to be close to you.”
We dried off quickly and climbed onto the bed, and she wrapped her arms around me. Even though she was supposed to be comforting me, I felt the need to ease her discomfort as well. “Everything’s going to be okay, I promise.”
A salty tear trickled down the soft skin of her breast, mingling with my kisses. And as one part of my brain rebelled against my promising that, the other part stood fast. I had no choice but to make good on my promise, because I loved her, too. I just didn’t know how to say so yet.
I wanted her to hold me. I needed to be as close to her as I could. I kissed her hard, my mouth giving no quarter and asking for none. Silently I was begging her to take me. It seemed like her hands were everywhere I needed them to be, until I felt so much heat in my center that the mere weight of her pressing into me wasn’t enough.
I wrenched my mouth away from hers. “Riley, please. Inside me. Now.”
She complied instantly, thrusting inside me so hard that I almost cried out. Her mouth closed over mine as salty tears trailed down her cheeks. I held her tighter as she continued to push into me, my passion systematically rising as I moved with her, holding her tighter than I’d ever held anyone in my life. Her breathing increased every time I lifted to meet her. I felt the wild beating of her heart and knew she had to struggle, as I did, to keep at least some sense of control.
The light film of moisture beneath my hand told me how much that control was costing her. And there was, as always, her scent. That endearing, sexy scent I was trying to burn into my memory…just in case. I moved with her because this was one more moment we could share together, one more thing I could think about when I was alone. Deep down, I hoped she would do the same.
When my body tensed, my eyes opened wide from the shock of it; and for one clear moment I saw stars and made a wish before my eyelids had to close. Muscles that I had forgotten I owned began to tighten rhythmically around her fingers.
“Yes,” she said, her lips still on mine as she eased her impassioned attack on my senses. My body continued to grip her fingers until her thrusts slowed to a stop. She kissed me long after the ripples of pleasure had dissipated. Tears rolled down her cheeks and pooled with those on mine. Eventually, they coalesced at our lips, where they were sealed between us like a promise.
*
My fingers dug into the bathroom sink as I stared at myself in the mirror. The circles under my eyes were almost nonexistent, and I seemed to have grown into my haircut because I honestly couldn’t remember it looking any other way. I pushed my hair back a little and noticed that my usually pale skin seemed to have a glow to it. I might have actually tanned instead of burned for once. My eyes even looked darker. Probably because of my new hair color, but I still looked…well, different. That gaunt, haunted look that I had somehow accumulated over the years seemed to have faded. I looked loved. Happy? Maybe that was it. I was happy. Damn. I realized, with sadness, that I was right all along. She made me happy. And now? Well, now it was going to be time for me to make my own way.
Straightening, I strode back into the bedroom. Riley’s eyes were closed, allowing me to study her unobserved. I felt like I needed to imprint her permanently on my brain synapses. I stared at the dark hair that looked even darker against the white of the pillowcase, then worked my way down.
“You took your cast off. Was it because it got wet?”
Her eyes flicked open. “I was going to take it off anyway.” She looked sad, almost as if she was in need of a hug.
I got into bed and she moved away from me. I was so surprised that I’m sure that she saw the pain in my eyes.
She was willing to throw caution to the wind, but I was the one keeping her at arm’s length to keep from hurting her. From the sound of her voice I had already done the thing I had been trying to avoid. Even though she said she understood, I don’t think she did. I’m not so sure I even understood anymore.
“Riley, maybe we should talk.”
Disappointment and pain flew across her features and then were gone so fast I almost thought I had imagined the expression. “I’ll understand if you want to go.”
She spoke more quickly than usual, and I had a hard time understanding her. I closed my eyes. Her voice, I was going to miss her voice so much.
“Let’s go outside for a minute.” She gathered a comforter in her arms.
I followed her out the double doors and she wrapped us tightly together. We hunkered down on the deck and gazed up at the clear night sky. Thousands of stars glimmered light-years away. I felt small and inconsequential but, for once, not alone. A deep contentment rippled through me. I hugged Riley and kissed her cheek. I had to speak, but the moment was so perfect that the words refused to come
It was Riley who spoke first. “It’s time for you to leave, isn’t it?”
Chapter Sixteen
I awoke before the sun came up the next morning. The house was completely still, as if it had taken a front-row seat for the play in which I ruin my life. Riley’s breathing was soft and even. I slowly removed my arm from around her and made my way into the bathroom. I was already planning how I was going to get back to Los Angeles and what I was going to do when I got there. I needed to take care of this, but if I could, I would get back to Riley and make it up to her.
I walked out of the bathroom fully clothed and approached the bed where she still slept. I propped the note I had painstakingly written in the bathroom against the lamp on her nightstand, so that she would see it when she first woke up. Her face was completely shrouded in darkness, and although I longed to kiss her good-bye, I couldn’t risk waking her.
Feeling like a thief as well as a murderer, I took half the cash from the envelope. I explained in the letter that I would get the money back to her as soon as I could. I also confessed to loving her with all my heart. And I did. I wanted to be with her, that’s why I was doing this. And if she would have me, I would try my best to come back. Leaving her was going to be the hardest part of the journey, but I knew it was for the best. I had contemplated taking Riley’s car, at least as far as the interstate, but decided against it. I would have hated to have to explain that I had not only taken her money, but also her car.
I lifted Riley’s cell phone from the nightstand and crept out of the bedroom. As I let myself out onto the deck, I scrolled through the contacts until I found Stacy’s home number. I felt bad calling her so early, but I needed to find a place to stay when I got back in town, and if anyone could organize discreet accommodation for me, she could.
“Stacy?”
“Foster? My God, is that you?” Her voice was croaky from waking up too soon, but there was something else, a tightness that unsettled me.
“What’s wrong? Have you been crying?”
“It is you, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it’s me. What’s up, Stace?”
“Is—Riley with you?” Her voice sounded hesitant and unsure, totally unlike the Stacy that I knew. I wasn’t being silly. Something was wrong.
“Yeah, she is.” I sat down on the edge of the deck, my heart pounding fast and hard in my
ears.
“Maybe I should talk to her.”
“Why? I’m the one who phoned you. Damn it, Stacy, tell me what’s wrong.”
“It’s Marcus. Someone killed him.”
I was sure I’d heard wrong. Marcus wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be. “Killed him?”
“I’m sorry. I know. After Smitty…I just thought you would want to know.”
“How? What happened?”
“I don’t know. The police are classifying it as a hate crime.”
I pressed my fist into my forehead. A hate crime.
“Listen to me,” Stacy said urgently. “I wanted to speak to Riley first because I know you’ll want to come back. You shouldn’t, Foster. They are still looking for you. You need to stay away.”
“I know,” I said dully.
It all came flooding back: Marcus’s excitement over snooping through the records, my telling him to leave it alone. What if he hadn’t? What if he’d been murdered because he was sticking his nose into something no one wanted him to see?
“Stacy, I…I should go.” I ended the call before she could reply.
Dazed, I walked around the side of the deck to get one last look at Riley’s sleeping face. I put my hand on the windowpane. Marcus, my friend…Marcus was dead. I had lost two friends. Two people who had tried to help me in the last year were dead, more than likely because of me. Riley was right, it was time for me to leave.
*
The traffic on the way to the main road was as stagnant as the frigid air around me. Hitchhiking is not something that I would recommend, but the 9 mm’s gave me some sense of safety and I was reluctant to spend the cash I had taken if I didn’t have to. I was determined to send it back to her, even if she wouldn’t have me back. I waited there for what seemed like nearly an hour as several truckers passed me by without so much as a flash of their brake lights. I shivered. I had taken one of Riley’s shirts, but I was still freezing.
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