“That’s not what I’m doing.”
“Yes, you are.”
He fisted his hands. “No, I’m not. I’m more than capable of having casual sex. I’ve been doing it since I got divorced.”
“But?”
He laughed, but the sadness in it made him sick. How the hell had they gotten to this point? He’d been divorced ten years and hadn’t missed this empty, frustrated feeling that came from two people not understanding each other. And the pisser of the whole thing was, if he told her how he felt, she’d freak.
Well, too fucking bad. He wouldn’t spend the next century circling her fear of rejection.
“You’re different,” he said. “It won’t be casual with you. I’m going to want every piece of you. And I’ll expect you to give it me. I’ll expect you to be with only me. Maybe that’s not fair to you, but I have a right to my own self-protection.”
She stepped an inch closer, searched his eyes for something. Damned if he knew what.
“Stalemate then?” she asked.
Truth time. Put it all on the table. Screw the consequences. “I know I said I never lied to you, but that’s not true.”
Despite the dim light he saw her flinch. He put his hands on her hips—very naked hips—and held her there. “The other day, when I gave you my do-rag, I made that crack about it being love. I lied when I said it was a joke. That was me firing a warning shot. When you panicked, I backed off. But that’s where I’m headed. In love with you. And you’re not going to be able to handle it.”
Isabelle’s vision swam and the tension seized her into a tight ball.
Caught. That’s what she was. She could remain in her safe zone or she could throw open the door and let in the sun that came with him.
You can’t give him what he needs. He’ll take what little you have. Stupid Creepy Izzy making this harder than it needed to be. Hadn’t he proved he could be trusted? Isabelle had put this man through hell and he always came back stronger.
She couldn’t give him what he needed. Not completely. But maybe, over time, she’d learn to give it all.
Maybe.
She cupped his cheeks, glided her thumb over the scar she found so fascinating. “I’m crazy about you. You have to know that. I lay in bed night after night and I think about having you there with me. When I’m with you, I’m at peace. I almost know where I fit in this world because I don’t have to pretend with you. You know I’m nuts and you still stay.”
He grunted. “Yeah, but I’m slowly dying from it.”
“I wish I could tell you Creepy Izzy will go away. I don’t know if she will, but I know, emotionally speaking, this is the furthest I’ve come with anyone. It might not seem like much, but I’ve shared my problems with you. I’ve never done that before. I let men think I’m distant. They never know about Kendrick or Creepy Izzy.”
“Then they aren’t paying attention and don’t deserve you.”
She grinned at him. “That’s what I mean. You get me. It’s like my own piece of heaven and I’m not sure what to do with it. I know I want to do something, I just don’t know what.”
Peter ducked his head. Kissed her. Hesitant at first and then, with a sweep of his tongue, more sure. Yes. He tried to back away, but she pulled him closer and the kiss deepened. Her mind wandered to the bed and getting him over there.
“I know what I want,” she said. “I can’t promise Creepy Izzy won’t take over, but, at this second, it’s Fun Izzy and I really want you to love me.”
He grunted, and backed her up until her legs hit the bed. “Convenient that we’re already naked.”
“How about that?”
They both laughed as she landed on the squeaking bed and he dropped beside her. “You want to be in charge?” he asked.
“I want us to be in charge.” She rolled over, straddled him, felt the heat of his erection against her inner thigh. “Wow. Peter. It’s a powerful thing to know I do this to you.”
He slid his hands up her torso, across her breasts, and she threw her head back, concentrating on the sensation of his hands on her.
Don’t give yourself over.
Stop thinking.
She leaned forward and kissed him. Kissing him always quieted her rioting brain.
“Don’t think,” he said, gliding his hands down her back. “Just let go. I’ll take care of you.”
“I know.” She trailed kisses down his neck, wanting only to feel him inside her. Maybe he’d be the one that could help her find that part of her that had been missing for so long. Please let it be him.
“Condoms,” he said.
Isabelle sat up and leaned over him to the bedside table while he put his tongue to work on her nipple. “That’s cheating.”
He pulled back. “You don’t seem to mind.”
She dangled a condom in front of him. “I was expecting you.”
“I love a woman who’s prepared.”
And he couldn’t wait to get started. He had to be brain-fried because he couldn’t come up with a single reason not to spend the next four hours banging the hell out of Isabelle DeRosa. The woman who was slowly killing him.
After slipping the condom on, he rolled on top of her, shoved her hair out of her face and held it while he got lost in those sea green eyes that, in a darkened room, shined bright.
He wanted her. And it wasn’t just the sex. He wanted the whole nutty package.
She hooked her hand around his neck, pulled him down and kissed him. Hot, needy. His weight sunk into her, the miserable bed squeaking again. He used his knee to spread her legs and settled himself there, pulling away from the kiss and nipping her jaw.
Her welcoming giggle left his mind swirling and she clamped her hands on his ass, slid them across his hips, up his back, all the while arching under him. Wanting him.
“Please, Peter.”
She shivered under him, but didn’t object when he pushed into her and let the hunger he’d kept at bay run loose.
After she bolted her legs around him, he dared to look at her, watching her eyes and the heat there as her hands moved all over, driving him to madness. Damn, he loved her.
Faster, he thought, and plunged again, surrendering to his baser needs, but wanting to give what her pumping hips so clearly wanted. Yes, he’d given in to Creepy Izzy. He’d let the emotions of that same rogue wave devour him as he thought about the two of them, together, in this bed, the scorching heat between them firing like a hot zone until he couldn’t hang on anymore. With one hand, he touched her face. She opened her eyes, blew him a kiss, and his body exploded from the force of it.
“Holy shit,” Peter said.
Isabelle caught her breath for a second before she remembered to let it out. She laughed and dragged her nails lightly against his back. “Uh-huh.”
“Just so you know,” he said, “I usually last longer than ten seconds.”
Like she cared. At this moment, her pleasure couldn’t be diminished. “I wasn’t counting.”
“Yeah, but I know you didn’t—”
“It’s all right.”
He pushed himself up, his wavy hair a curling mess around his face. “It’s not okay.”
Here we go again. Another explanation. Would it ever stop?
She made a move to roll away, but his arms kept her in place. She sighed. More humiliation. “It doesn’t always happen for me.” Too much baggage occupying her mind. But she’d never say that to him. The one who asked for all of her.
“Unacceptable.”
She laughed.
“I’m serious,” he said, still hovering above her. “How is that fair to you? We’re in this together. Why is it okay for me to have an orgasm and not you?”
Oh, Lord, she thought, wanting to find the nearest closet to hide in. He didn’t get it. She reached and brought him down to her, brushed her lips against his. “I’m fine without it. I’m used to it.”
Rolling to the side, he propped himself on one elbow and moved his hands over her breasts. �
�I don’t believe that.”
The heat of his hands drew her closer. “But I love you touching me.”
He kissed the top of her head and glided his hands down her torso. “I’m not done with you yet.”
Typical man, needing to prove his point. What was it with men? They just couldn’t accept that she wasn’t equipped for an orgasm every time.
She grabbed his roaming hand. “It’s not about you not doing something. It’s me.”
“I don’t understand.”
The way he focused on her, told her he wouldn’t give up until he comprehended the problem. She blew out a breath, prepared for more humiliation.
She shook her head and swallowed the bile in her throat. She hated this. Hated the shame that came with being honest.
“Iz?”
Here goes. Another first. “With Kendrick, I would have orgasms. At the time, I was too young to understand what they were and he told me it happened when people enjoy sex.”
“Son of a bitch,” Peter said.
She ignored that and pushed forward. He wanted to know and she’d already started, so she might as well finish. “It’s hard for me to think about those times. It makes me sick because I know I was turned-on, and I’m ashamed of it. How could I have liked it?”
He sat up. “Honey, you were a little girl. You didn’t know the human body reacts to that kind of…well…stimulation. You didn’t get off because you liked it. You got off because it’s the way the body is supposed to respond. And nobody had the right to mess with that.”
“I know, but I’ve spent years separating my mind and body. When I have an orgasm, the shame strangles me. I don’t want to live with that reminder. It’s easier to disconnect.”
Peter stared at her for a solid minute. He wasn’t running for the door yet, so that was a good sign. She had to admit she felt some relief after having shared that nasty little secret.
“You deserve better than this, Peter. I’m broken and will frustrate the hell out of you. There will be times when you think I’m getting close to an orgasm and—poof!—it’ll be gone. You’ll feel like a failure and I’ll feel guilty. It’s a vicious cycle.”
He sat back against the pillows. “Here we go again. You’re trying to scare me off.”
“I’m not. It’s the truth.”
“It’s your truth. How about you let me decide how I feel?”
“I wasn’t—”
He held up a finger. “Sshh! One step at a time. Do you agree that you should let me decide how I feel?”
She rolled her eyes. “Well, of course, but that’s—”
“Sshh!”
Insane. He had to be insane.
When he leaned over, put his arm around her and pulled her close, she didn’t fight it. She simply rested her head against his chest and enjoyed the comfort of being held. No shame.
“One step at a time, Iz. We’ll figure it out.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Sunlight streaked between the cracks in the window blinds, and Isabelle concentrated on remaining still. Peter slept soundly beside her, his chest rising and falling just inches in front of her face. They had fallen asleep, arms and legs entangled, and she found she didn’t so much mind waking up that way.
She breathed in slowly and the scent of him closed in as her brain and body sent conflicting messages.
Ignore it.
Knowing she’d told him her secret terrified her. But she liked it. Sort of. Why deny it? She had handed over more weakness by admitting her orgasm issues and he didn’t make her feel like a freak.
Damned Peter. Screwing up her life. Literally. His eyes popped open.
“Good morning, sunshine,” he said, grinning like a madman.
“Morning.”
She snuggled into him.
“I can hear you thinking,” he said. “You okay?”
“I am.” And, at that moment, she was. “Thank you for taking the time to understand.”
“I need to understand the problem before I can tackle it.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“So,” Peter said. “Today’s the day. Moving into the compound.”
The compound. She didn’t want to. No. She wanted to stay in this bed, with Peter, and not think about the blasted compound.
Then again. The sooner she got in, the sooner she could go home and figure out where he fit in her life. Not to mention saving her job. A job that her uncle, via voice mail, threatened to relieve her of unless she returned his calls.
“Yep. Today’s the day.”
“Before you go, I’m gonna teach you how to pick a lock. That’s one skill that always comes in handy.”
Isabelle nodded. “I’m up for that. I’d also like to get a workout in before I leave. It’ll relax me. Get me in the right frame of mind. Maybe I’ll go down to that gym you guys found in town.”
“Sure.” Peter rolled sideways and put his feet on the floor. “Billy will probably go. Time it so he gets there first.”
“Why?”
He turned back to her. “The guy that owns the place is a meathead and tends to hover around the women. He’ll be all over you, so unless you want that, Billy will make sure the meathead stays away.”
If ever a comment deserved an eye roll it was that one. “You know I can take care of myself.”
“Yes, but possibly beating the crap out of the guy, and calling attention to yourself when you’re supposed to be undercover, won’t make your buddy Sampson happy.”
She hadn’t thought of that. And just to make sure Peter didn’t start channeling his inner caveman, she’d better be up front about the agent’s presence in Ohio.
“Speaking of Sampson, how did your meeting go?”
Peter shrugged. “He wants me to stay out of his case or he’ll lock me up. He’ll come around after I start feeding him information he can’t get legally.”
Izzy sat up. The cold air smacked into her and she contemplated burrowing back. “Please don’t get in trouble over this. I couldn’t stand it if you wound up in custody.”
He quickly snapped off one of the bright smiles that transformed him from a regular Joe to movie-star handsome. “Not a chance, Iz. Sampson gets no free passes when it comes to you.”
A disturbing tension buzzed. Free passes? What the hell did that mean? “I’m not sure I understand.”
He let out a sarcastic laugh. “Izzy, come on. You’re telling me you haven’t noticed he’d like to nail you? He practically admitted it to me.”
Wait. They were discussing her? Talking about sex? With her? Couldn’t be. Peter wouldn’t do that. Would he?
“I…I…hmm.” She gave her head a hard shake.
The pressure of the blood barreling inside her made her head pound. She had to relax. Think about this logically before she tore into him. Could Peter have done this to her?
“What?” he asked.
She breathed in, jabbed both hands at him. “I’m trying to make sense of this. I’m busy turning my life upside down and you two are talking about who gets to have sex with me? Are you kidding? I decide who gets to have sex with me.”
An agonizing panic shot up the center of her ribcage.
“No, no, no,” Peter said. “You are not gonna do this. I’ve learned a few things from our prior arguments, and you are not going to make this about me treating you like a sexual object.”
“I don’t do that.”
“Actually, you do. It’s a defense mechanism. It’s how you push people away and I’m not biting this time.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but he held up two hands. She closed her mouth.
“Listen up,” Peter said. “Sampson and I did not, I repeat, did not, discuss who gets to have sex with you. I wouldn’t do that and you know it. The conversation had nothing to do with sex.” He turned so his body faced her. “I don’t think you’re an object. You’re smart and caring and driven to do what’s right. Most people don’t even understand the concept. The thing with Sampson was just
me being an asshole. I can’t stand the idea of anyone else touching you. So, you can be mad at me and call me a caveman for wanting to keep you for myself, but that’s it.”
The quiet of his voice soothed her barking temper and she closed her eyes, let the feeling fill her. Allowing herself to get emotional about Peter had been her first mistake, a slippery slope. And she couldn’t pinpoint where she’d let go of the anchor to her emotional stability. Even if it was only a little bit of a slip, she’d permitted it.
“Iz?”
She scooted forward, threw her arms around his shoulders and hung on tight. “I’m stuck, Peter. It’s like you’re trying to drag me out of a window and I’m digging in, fighting it because I’m terrified of what’s on the other side. That’s never happened to me. I never wanted to go to the other side.”
“I think you want to be terrified,” he said into her ear. “I think you’re sick of Creepy Izzy having the power. And, for whatever reason, I’m the lucky guy who happened to be in the right place at the right time.”
She rolled her eyes at that one. How the hell hadn’t he given up on her yet? “You call this lucky? You need more help than I thought.”
Peter sat back and entwined her fingers with his. “The only way to get past the fear is to experience it. It won’t kill you, Iz. It won’t. It sucks, but once you beat it, you’ll be free.”
Free. She wanted to be emotionally free. More than anything she wanted to feel, really feel, the highs, maybe the lows too, of loving a man and being loved in return.
She sighed, tilting her head to the side. “I want to tell you I’m trying, but that sounds weak.”
“I know you’re trying. Let’s take it slow.”
That sounded nice because this psychological warfare, if she wasn’t careful, would suck her dry and leave nothing to put into a relationship. She squeezed his hand. “I like that idea.”
He cracked off another movie-star grin and stood to stretch his chiseled body. “Great.”
When he started toward the bathroom she watched him go, enjoyed the way the taut muscles in his back rippled, but something nagged at her. His insecurities about Sampson’s attraction to her couldn’t be ignored. She walked to the bathroom, pushed open the partially closed door and pretended to ignore the fact that he was peeing.
A Just Deception Page 19
