Rock Hard

by Nalini Singh

  He made a deep sound in his chest and stroked her hair off her face. Only then did she realize it was out of its bun. But that was fine, wonderful... until he fisted his hand in her hair and tugged up her head. Terror screamed to life in her blood, making her lungs strain, black spots dancing in front of her eyes.

  Shoving at him, she would've fallen off the sofa if Gabriel hadn't curled his arm around her waist. "Charlotte!"

  She wrenched even harder, and this time she managed to get off--to fall hard onto her tailbone. The shock of pain snapped through the panic, had her staring up at Gabriel as he sat up on the sofa, his hand reaching out toward her. "Are you hurt?"

  She shook her head in a quick, jerky movement. She'd ruined it. It had been beautiful and she'd ruined it. Humiliated and sad and angry, she got up onto her knees, then scrambled to her feet. "You should go." She couldn't meet his eyes, wanted only to curl up into a ball and rock herself through the pain.

  He caught her hand, tugged. "Come here, Ms. Baird."

  "No. I need to be alone." Her voice broke.

  Gabriel curled his fingers more firmly around her hand. "Come here. Just a couple of steps."

  She didn't realize she was moving until she was beside his leg. Sliding his arm around her waist, he pulled her down onto his lap. "There, you're back where you're meant to be."

  Charlotte crumpled into him. "I want to be fixed," she whispered. "I want to be normal. I want you not to have to worry about every touch." He'd been so careful during the sex, his muscles and tendons rigid with control.

  "I had a hell of a good time." He settled back into the sofa, one of his hands on her thigh, the other spread on her lower back. "Did you not feel me inside you?"

  "You had to think throughout it." She sat up, twisted to face him. "Don't lie."

  "I'd always have been thinking our first time together--you're damn small, Ms. Baird, and I'm a big man." He cupped the side of her face. "No matter how much I want to pin you down and ram into you, I would never have done it the first time--or the second. We'll build up to it."

  Charlotte didn't know how to respond. The blunt sexual words, his determination, the tenderness with which he touched her, it all overwhelmed.

  "But Charlotte," Gabriel said when she stayed silent, "you are hurt deep inside. Have you ever talked to anyone about what happened to you?"

  Charlotte gave a jerky nod. "Right after, I did."

  "And?"

  "After about six months, I started to feel guilty for taking up the therapist's time when I wasn't getting better, so I stopped going to see her." The smart, well-dressed, and together woman had made her feel so small, her impatience hidden but obvious to Charlotte.

  Gabriel snapped out a low, hard word. "That therapist was incompetent if she made you feel that way."

  Charlotte wanted to believe him. "I don't know if I can talk to a stranger," she whispered. "It was so hard to tell you, and I trust you."

  Gabriel gently stroked her thigh. "I know someone," he said. "A doctor I talked to after my injury."

  "You talked to someone?" Her eyes went huge, then turned suspicious. "Did your mom make you?"

  "My dad," he admitted. "It was a good thing. I wasn't too messed up, but I might have been if I hadn't talked to Dr. Mac at that point in time." He shrugged. "He reminded me I had a whole lot more going for me than just my skill on the field."

  Charlotte pressed her hands flat against his chest. "You were hurting."

  "I'd been playing no-holds-barred rugby since I could run, then poof, it was all gone." Feeling Charlotte melt against him, her features soft, he realized she was a sucker for his hard-luck story. Too bad he adored her too much to use it to manipulate her. "Anyway, Dr. Mac, he's a good guy."

  "A man?" Charlotte twisted her lips. "I don't do too well with men, you know that."

  "He looks like Santa Claus, complete with the beard. Why don't you give it a shot? I can go with you for the first session."

  Charlotte rubbed her hands up her arms and immediately found herself cuddled against the heat of Gabriel's chest. He really was very tactile--she loved it. Settling into him and hotly aware of how intimately he held her, one of his hands curved over her left thigh, she said, "Okay, I'll try it." She wasn't sure she could talk to even Santa Claus, but she was willing to attempt anything at this point.

  "I'll give him a call tomorrow, see when he has a slot." Gabriel's hand moved to between her thighs.

  She shifted restlessly on his lap, her pulse spiking. When she tipped up her head, his lips were there for her to kiss. Sliding her hand around to his nape, she opened her mouth to him. He thrust his tongue inside, and it was a more aggressive kiss than he usually began with; it made her wet all over again.

  He cupped her between her thighs a second later, swallowed her gasp with his kiss. Rising up in an instinctive move, she pushed back down and he thrust two fingers into her. It was so hard, so fast, that it tore a rasped scream from her throat.

  Biting down on her lower lip, Gabriel said, "Come back here, Ms. Baird."

  She gave him her mouth again and in return, he moved his fingers in a deep, demanding rhythm, his tongue echoing the tempo. Charlotte tried to hold on, but it was hopeless. Her thighs squeezed his wrist, her internal muscles clamping down on him as the orgasm crashed over her. It didn't stop when she thought it would, because he kept doing things to her. Pressing his thumb against her clit, pulling out his fingers and thrusting them back in past her passion-swollen entrance, sucking on her tongue.

  "Stop," she gasped at last, her muscles aching. "I can't take it."

  A husky chuckle, but he'd stopped the instant she asked. Leaving his hand between her legs, he curved it around her inner thigh. He was sticky with her and the feel of it made her shudder again. Burying her face against his neck, chest heaving, she tried to find words, but they'd all left her brain.

  "Do you mind if I use your body to get myself off?" It was a hot question against her ear.

  Charlotte moaned.

  "Is that a yes to my using your body?"

  She nodded.

  The big, sexy man who'd turned her bones molten pulled up her dress, tugging it over her head before removing her bra. She barely had the strength to move her arms, but he managed. It left her totally naked for the first time, and she should've felt vulnerable, but Gabriel's hands felt so lovely on her skin that she just let him do what he wanted.

  He spread her thighs over him so she straddled him again, then cradling her against him, nibbled at her throat as he released himself from his pants. "I want your hand on my cock." Taking her right hand, he slid it over his chest and down.

  Charlotte curled her fingers around the hot steel of his erection, shivered when he said, "Kiss me, Ms. Baird."

  She did exactly that, part of her aware that had she been normal and not messed up as she was, he'd have hauled her aggressively into that kiss. Right now, that didn't matter. What mattered was that he was kissing her all raw and deep again while using his hand on her own to show her how to caress him. Finding strength in his desire for her, she lifted off his chest enough to look down.

  Seeing her fingers on him made her lower body tighten in a convulsive shudder.

  There wasn't much thinking after that.

  Gabriel really didn't want to drive home that night, but he got dressed and rose, both because he had no fresh clothes at Charlotte's and because he knew she wasn't ready. The last thing he wanted was for her to wake up in the middle of the night and panic at having a man in bed with her.

  So he kissed her on the doorstep, leaving her all sleepy-eyed and sated. It was one of the hardest things he'd had to do--especially when she reached up on tiptoe to kiss him again at the instant he would've pulled back.

  "Thank you, Gabriel."

  "I'm the one who should be giving thanks." He'd never been so sexually satisfied in his life. Yeah, he'd had to hold back, but that was changing. He wasn't sure she realized it, but he'd been pretty demanding on the sofa and s
he hadn't flinched. Sex, however, wasn't the key to Charlotte's fear. Still, it was a start.

  Leaving her with a final kiss, he made his way home.

  Charlotte slept like the dead and woke early, feeling good from the tips of her toes to the ends of her hair. She probably should've showered before going to bed, but she hadn't, not wanting to wash off Gabriel's scent. Rolling around and basking in it for another few minutes, she finally made herself go and shower, then got dressed.

  Having caught an earlier bus in, she got in well before her usual time. It was as she was going up the steps to the main doors of the Saxon & Archer building that she caught sight of the man she'd seen with Gabriel yesterday. He was hiding behind one of the pillars that fronted the next building over, looking out furtively every so often.

  Charlotte didn't hesitate to walk over. "Hello," she said in a gentle tone once she was close enough. "You're Gabriel's father, aren't you? Brian?"

  The man, his eyes sunken and his clothes hanging off his frame, looked alarmed. "Don't tell him I'm here," he begged. "I just wanted to see him before I go to the hospital later today."

  Charlotte stepped off the sidewalk and joined Brian behind the pillars so they could talk privately. "He's very angry with you," she said, understanding that anger.

  "I know." Coughs wracking his frame, Brian Bishop took something out of his pocket. "Will you give him this? I don't think he'd take it from me."

  Charlotte took the wrinkled envelope that she guessed contained a letter. "I will." Gabriel might yell at her for interfering, but if they were to have a relationship, she had to be strong enough to face him down when necessary.

  And it was necessary here. Gabriel might not want to talk about this, but she knew the situation wasn't healthy, that he had to find a way to deal with the anger inside him. "You should go from here for now," she said, touching her hand to Brian's arm to take the sting out of the words. "I'll make sure Gabriel gets this."

  Brian swallowed and nodded.

  "Wait," she said when he would've turned. "When's your appointment?"

  "Ten a.m. At the main hospital." He touched a hand to his chest, tremors running through him. "Cancer."

  Though she'd already guessed it was something like that, Charlotte felt an ache of memory at the mention of the disease that had taken her mother. "Do you have transport home after your treatment?"

  A dull smile. "Yes, a charity volunteer picks me up. It's what I deserve."

  Watching him as he left, Charlotte put the envelope in her purse and headed up.

  When Gabriel came in from his run, he said, "I like you in yellow, Ms. Baird," before claiming a kiss.

  She waited to bring up the letter until he was in his office after his shower, the cobalt-blue strip of his tie slung around his neck in readiness for tying. Closing the door behind her, she simply sighed at the gorgeous sexiness of his smile when he glanced up.

  "No office shenanigans," he said, fingers moving efficiently to get the tie in place. "Not that I can't be persuaded to negotiate that rule."

  Her stomach fluttered before twisting with nerves. "I have to talk to you about something."

  Brow furrowing, he watched her move toward him. "Sounds serious."

  "It's about your father."

  His jaw clenched. Hands on his hips and tie done, he turned to stare out at the cloud-gray sky. "That man lost the right to call himself my father a long time ago."

  "I know." Charlotte touched one hand to his back, soothing the tension there with gentle strokes. "But this anger you're carrying around? It's toxic." When he didn't speak, she continued despite her worry that he'd try to shut her down again.

  It wouldn't work this time, not when he'd given himself to her, but she'd have to fight to batter down his walls, and she knew exactly how hardheaded he could be. "I know what I'm talking about. I hated Richard for what he did. For a long time that hate drove me forward to heal myself, become stronger, and that was good, but at some point, I realized it was stealing pieces of me."

  Still no response.

  "The hate was making me into someone who saw only the negative in people." She shook her head. "I didn't want to be that person, so I made a conscious decision to let the hate go."

  Gabriel slid his arm around her waist, drawing her against him. "How? After what he did."

  "By hating him, I was giving him too much importance in my life. He didn't deserve my attention." Turning her back to the view, she touched Gabriel's freshly shaven cheek. "I don't know if you can ever forgive your father, but let the anger go, Gabriel. In the end, it'll only damage you."

  Expression still grim, he nodded at the envelope in her hand. "From him?" When she confirmed that, he took it and tore it open.

  It didn't hold a letter. Two checks fell out instead. One was made out to Gabriel, the other to Sailor, both for odd amounts: two hundred forty-seven dollars and fifty cents, and one hundred eighty-nine dollars and eighty-two cents.

  "I don't understand," Charlotte said when Gabriel just stared at the checks.

  Reaching back, he dropped the checks on his desk and drew Charlotte into his arms. He needed her warmth, her tenderness. "When Brian left," he told her, "he didn't only empty out his and Mom's joint account. He took the money in Sailor's account and mine too." Miniscule amounts really, but important to two little boys.

  "We put birthday money in there, and my mom used to add an extra five dollars now and then when she'd saved money on the grocery shopping or something. It was meant to pay for stuff we might need at school later on--field trips, things like that."

  "And he took that?" Charlotte shook her head. "That was a low thing to do."

  "He left us destitute. Then my mom lost her job because she couldn't afford a babysitter." Anger made his voice harsh. "She'd always been so proud of giving me and Sailor everything we needed, but without a cushion of savings, we had nothing. We ended up in an emergency shelter."

  Charlotte didn't say anything, just held him.

  "I don't think I can ever forgive him."

  "Then don't." She looked up. "But don't nurture the anger. Be kind, be the better man. Be the man I know." Touching his cheek again, she said, "He's a sick old man who's lost everything and everyone. You have a huge heart, Gabriel--find room in it to be kind."

  Gabriel wasn't sure he was that good, but as time passed that morning, those wrinkled checks lingered on his mind. Brian Bishop was finally trying to fix his mistakes. Too little too late as far as Gabriel was concerned.

  Be kind, be the better man. Be the man I know.

  Rising from his chair, he stepped out to where Charlotte worked. "What time was his appointment?"

  "Ten. Are you going?"

  "I don't know." He still wasn't sure when he parked the car in the hospital's parking garage, but he got out and made his way to the correct ward.

  You have a huge heart, Gabriel--find room in it to be kind.

  Pushing the door, he went in.

  31

  A Whisper of Evil

  "Are you okay?" Charlotte asked when he returned to the office, rising to give him a tight hug.

  Gabriel held her close. "He's so old and frail." A shadow of who Brian had once been. "Weak of the soul too." That, he'd realized as he spoke to Brian today, was a frailty nothing could fix. "It seems a waste of time to be angry at a man like that."

  Brian had no strength, physical or emotional, was no kind of true opponent. Gabriel could destroy him in a heartbeat. Once, however, he'd have done anything Brian asked, been the son who shouldered any burden. He saw that knowledge in Brian's eyes too, the knowledge of what he'd thrown away--and it just made Gabriel feel sorry for a man who'd realized his mistakes far too late to fix them.

  "I'll never see him as my father, but yeah, I can be kind to an old and sick man." The bonds of family had been permanently broken; all he could offer was decency.

  "For him," Charlotte said, "I think it'll be enough. He's full of regret."

  Gabriel had no inte
ntion of ever becoming the same, of waking up one day to realize he'd wasted his life in anger at Brian, so he let it go. If the anger returned, he'd make the same choice. Because Charlotte was right: holding on to it was toxic, would hurt only him and the people around him.

  "How bad is it?" he asked after claiming a deep, hungry kiss.

  "I'm holding the wolves at bay." She gave him two notes with phone messages. "Urgent, but I can clear you another hour if you need it."

  "Do it," he said. "I need to talk to Sailor." His brother had fewer memories of the time after Brian left, fewer negative emotions, but he'd stuck loyally to Gabriel's stance.

  When Gabriel tracked him to the commercial greenhouse where he was planting seedlings, Sailor gave him a disbelieving look. "You stayed with the bastard through his chemo?"

  "Part of it." Yet even that had made Brian pathetically grateful. "Charlotte says he's not worth the energy of hating and she's right."

  Sailor snorted. "Not worth our time either."

  "No, but Mom is," he said, squeezing his brother's shoulder. "Do this for her. If we don't, she'll end up going with him because she's got a soft heart."

  Sailor blew out a breath. "Fuck. I'll take him to his next appointment." He took off his gardening gloves, put them down. "I'm not inviting him into my family--I don't trust him."

  "Neither do I." A tiger couldn't change its stripes. "I've made sure he has good care." For now it was as far as he could go. Perhaps Brian would one day redeem himself, but until then, Gabriel would try to be the better man Charlotte saw in him.

  Gabriel had been back in the office for a couple of hours, the two of them frenetic with work, when reception called up to tell Charlotte she had a delivery. Tuck was the one who brought it up.

  "Someone likes you, Charlotte," he said with a wide grin before leaving.

  It was a bouquet, but each "flower" was made up of pages from old romance novels. Smiling goofily, Charlotte searched for the card. There wasn't one. A second later, she realized the writing was on the wide silver ribbon around the bouquet.

  Other than her name, it had only a single line: Our story is just beginning.--T-R.

  A little teary, she traced her finger over the signature. The gift meant all the more today, when she'd pushed her way into his emotional life, when she'd exercised her right to look after his heart as he looked after hers.