He released a deep sigh, hating this part of the story, hating his stupidity. Why did everything have to be so clear in hindsight? Maybe if he’d consulted a psychic before heading to Newark, he could have saved himself a world of shit. He stared at Celeste, her patient, concerned eyes. No, it was a good thing he hadn’t known Celeste then. He’d been full of himself. Renee had taken his ego down more than a couple of pegs, though. While he still regretted what had happened, what he hadn’t paid closer attention to, he knew he was a better man today than he was two years ago.
“A couple days in,” he began, “after reviewing all of the evidence I suggested the man we were looking for was well trained...former military or a former cop. Renee argued with me about my assessment, which never had happened in the past, and changed the profile. At the time, I’d shrugged it off. After all, she’d been in the field longer than I had, but as the days passed, I’d realized something wasn’t right. Renee started blowing off any suggestions I’d make, and would closet herself inside Foster’s office leaving me twiddling my thumbs.”
A wry smile shaped her lips. “I can’t imagine you twiddling your thumbs. Let me guess, you started doing your own investigating without her.”
He tried to smile back, but couldn’t, not with the guilt still weighing on him. He shoved off the couch and moved to the fireplace. “I did. And about ten days later, I ended up finding the one guy that could take Pappeli down. Tony D’Angelo had worked for him for years. They’d grown up together and at one time, had been as tight as brothers. Tony was a screw-up though, and Pappeli had grown tired of bailing him out of his problems, not only financially, but with the Newark police. I happened to catch him after Pappeli balled him out, and threatened not only him, but his wife and kids. Tony was scared. He wanted out of Pappeli’s organization, and he wanted protection. He’d told me he had evidence that would lead us to not only Pappeli’s assassin, but prove Pappeli wasn’t as squeaky clean as he appeared on paper.”
In the reflection of one of her framed pictures, he saw her rise. He wanted to turn and take her in his arms, wash away the memories, but he couldn’t. Not yet. Not until he finished the painful story he’d started.
“Tony died that night, and it was my fault. I’d gone to Renee and Foster, told them what he’d told me, and the next morning they found him dead. A bullet to the head, and his tongue cut off.”
He turned to her then, and didn’t bother to mask his emotions. Not after the way she’d defended him to Lloyd. And not with the way she stared at him now. Her eyes filling with tears, her beautiful face tight with pain...for him.
“I’d gotten him killed, because I’d trusted the wrong people. The next day, Blake Thatcher, a friend of mine from my academy days who also worked out of Newark, called me. He said my DNA was found on Tony’s body.”
“Yours?”
“Forensics found my hair. But it gets better. The bullet that had killed Tony had come from a gun similar to the one I’d carried. Blake warned me that I was about to be detained for questioning, especially because they’d just discovered that the day Tony was killed, a deposit of one hundred thousand dollars was placed in my bank account.”
She moved toward him. “Oh my God, John.”
The smothering, claustrophobia that had swamped him that day didn’t consume him like it had each time he’d told this story. Instead, he felt...liberated. The woman that had captured his attention, his heart, looked at him with raw, utter faith. With her, there was no room for regret, for the pain he’d endured. Just being near her, close to her, made him feel whole. She barely knew him, but was ready to defend him, to deny what his fellow agents had prepared to accuse him of...murder.
“I went to my hotel and discovered my weapon was missing, I also found out that Renee had checked out of her room. As the pieces began to fall into place, I drove back to New York. At that point, I didn’t know what to do. I knew I was being framed, and didn’t know who to trust. But I suspected who’d set me up.”
“Renee.”
He nodded. “I went to her apartment. Late. Two in the morning. When she opened the door she held my gun in my face and told me to walk inside. As I stepped into her apartment I asked why. And she smiled.” He grimaced at the memory. “I’d trusted her. She’d been my partner, my lover, and she laughed in my face. I’d been a pawn, she said. Then she went on to tell me that she and Foster were lovers, that they’d been working with Pappeli for a year, that she had a plane ticket to Argentina and a shitload of money in some off-shore account. She’d killed Tony, and Foster had been Pappeli’s assassin. But what she didn’t know was that I’d been recording everything on my cell phone. What I didn’t know? Before Tony died, he had sent his lawyer enough evidence to bury her, Foster and Pappeli.”
He ran a hand through his hair, then pulled at the ends. “She’d taken hair from my brush and planted it on Tony after she’d killed him and severed his tongue.” He dropped his hands to his sides. “At that point, I’d never felt more betrayed in my life.”
“H-how did she die?” A tear slipped down Celeste’s cheek and he wanted to capture it. Own it. No one had ever cried for him before.
“Tony’s attorney contacted Blake, thankfully. If he’d gone to Foster, I’d probably be in prison right now. Blake called it in to our superiors and as Renee waved my gun at me, sirens were screaming up and down her neighborhood. She knew she was finished. And I...I told her she had two options.” He gulped around the knot in his throat, petrified of what Celeste would think of him once he told her what he’d never told another soul.
She took another step closer. “And they were?”
He caught her vanilla and cinnamon scent, and wanted to wrap his arms around her and lose himself in her body. Forget everything that had happened. But not yet. He’d started this, and would finish it, and he hoped to God she still respected him when he was through.
“Either she faced prison—not a great place to be as a former FBI agent—or kill herself.” He choked back the memory of those words and gripped Celeste’s shoulders. “She...she looked out her window, then back at me.” He squeezed Celeste tighter. “She shoved my gun into her mouth, then pulled the trigger.”
She jerked beneath his hands, tears spilling down her face. “John, I...”
“I went through hell after that. The questioning from my superiors, the hours with their psychologists, even after the evidence pointed in my favor. And when all was said and done, and I was exonerated from having anything to do with Renee and Tony’s deaths, there was still that stigma.”
“Which was why you left the FBI.”
“Yeah, my boss might be a bit manipulative, but he saved me the day he asked me to join CORE. He gave me a second chance. And I owe him, which was why I came to Wissota Falls, and why I ended up working with a psychic even if it wasn’t what I’d wanted.”
Her breath caught. “And now?” she asked, her eyes glistening with tears.
“I wish we’d met under different circumstances, but I’m glad to have been given the opportunity to know you. And if you asked me to leave, it would hurt like hell.” He cupped her cheeks and grazed his thumb along her lower lip. “You’ve shown me what I’ve been missing in my life.”
“What’s that?” she asked, breathless, as another tear slipped down her cheek.
“You. But I don’t deserve someone as special as you, Celeste. Because of me, Tony died. And I can’t help, but feel guilt over Renee, even with her betrayal. Damn it, I told her to kill herself.”
She gripped his wrists tight. “You didn’t kill Tony or Renee. She did it. She pulled the trigger both times. Stop punishing yourself for something you didn’t do. Stop letting your guilt control your life, and don’t you dare let it interfere with what we have.”
“And what do we have? I have a life in Chicago, and you have one here. It will hurt when I walk away from you once this case ends, but I will walk away. I won’t drag you into my life and watch the sparkle in your eyes dim once you rea
lize I’m not the man you thought.” God, he hated himself. Hated that he couldn’t man up and admit that he didn’t want to walk away, that he wanted to drag her back home with him and cherish her the way she deserved. With her, he’d become a better man, a different man. She’d become the best part of him. But he worried he couldn’t live up to her expectations, that if he gave his heart and soul to her she might eventually reject it once she realized how hardened and tainted those parts of him had become.
A half-smile tilted her lips. “You’re so full of it. I have a feeling you’ve been using Renee and Tony’s death as a crutch. As a way to shut people out and keep the real John Kain locked in his own personal prison. Don’t shut me out, too. I’m a big girl, and I’ve walked into this relationship with my eyes wide open. You want to walk away, then walk.” Breathing hard, she looked away and released his wrists, then moved toward the foyer. “There’s the door. You know how to use it. Keep in mind, though, I don’t want you to leave. You’re the one who’s already making up excuses and reasons why what we have shouldn’t work. Make it easier on yourself and go now.”
She’d given him an ultimatum. Man up or walk. He didn’t want to do either. He wanted to time travel back to the moment she was straddling his thighs before Lloyd dropped by and forced him to face his past. At that point, he hadn’t fully opened himself up to her. At that point...hell, even then he knew he’d have to face the reality, the fact that he’d either have to cut bait or own his feelings for Celeste. Then, though, he’d still had time to figure out what to do. Now, she wasn’t giving him any time at all.
She gripped the door knob. “Well, what are you waiting for?”
Before she could turn the brass handle, he was on her, pinning her to the wall, and her hands to her hips. His heart pounding hard, he stared into her wide eyes. “I can’t.”
“You can’t what? Leave? Or take a chance?”
The challenge in her eyes, in her husky voice had him hard, ready, and aching to confess more than he’d already done tonight. He couldn’t walk away from her. He couldn’t risk losing the one woman, the only woman, who’d captured his trust, his heart, and his soul.
“I can’t leave you.”
She leaned into him, brushed her breasts against his chest, and tipped her pelvis against his erection. “What can you do?”
He nipped her lower lip. He knew this was about more than sex. But sex was on the forefront of his mind. Touching her, caressing her, showing her his emotions was easier than explaining what the loss of her, what they had, would do to him. Not being able to see Celeste, touch her, talk to her, hear her laughter and share her life would kill him. He’d die a slow, lonely death. He also didn’t want to drag her down into his private hell. Into the depths of guilt that still weighed on his conscience and haunted him more than he’d admit to anyone.
“Is that the best you’ve got?” she taunted, when he soothed the nip with a flick of his tongue.
Framing her face with his hands, he stared into her eyes. “Are you sure you want this?”
“Meaning?”
“Me. The man I am. I told you about Renee, about Tony, but do you have any idea what I’ve become since that day?”
She ran a hand along his jaw. Her caress so soothing, so filled with deep tender affection, had him swallowing around the lump in his throat.
“John, the man I know is hard, but not cruel. Everything about you has to fit into a nice little slot of logic, and yet you’ve opened yourself up to me. Not just with your personal baggage. You believed in me, and you have no idea what that means to me. And I believe in you. Whether or not there is an us when all is said and done...I don’t know. I’d like there to be, because you’ve touched a part of me I didn’t know existed.”
He rested his head against hers, his mouth mere inches from hers. “Celeste, being with you has been the best days of my life. I don’t want it to end, I don’t want to walk away, but I also don’t want to hurt you.”
“Then don’t.”
He raised his head, their gazes collided. Simple as that, he realized he didn’t have to. He could have her. Now. And later, when the case was over, suggest she join him in Chicago. Hell, he had the money. He’d buy out her dad, and sell the diner. He’d take her away from a life she was living for someone else. He’d take care of her, cherish her, give her anything she wanted to have her with him.
Couples joked about their better half, but in all honestly, he believed she was the better half of him. She’d filled him with hope for the future, a future that before setting foot into Wissota Falls had seemed bleak.
“I won’t,” he promised, and captured her lips. Sealed that promise with a searing kiss that left them both breathless. She owned a part of him now. Now he wanted to own a part of her. He needed that part of her heart, her soul. Without it, he’d survive, but his existence would be lonelier than it had been before he’d met her. He’d tasted affection, the promise of more with Celeste. To lose that? He kissed her harder, with more determination. He refused to lose what he had with her when she was willing to give, to receive. When he was willing to give right back and open to whatever she had to offer him.
Breaking the kiss, he took her hand and kissed her knuckles.
She ran a hand through his hair as he gazed up at her, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “Come to bed with me.”
“To sleep?” he asked as he inched his lips up her wrists.
Fisting his hair, she halted his ascent. “I’m not sleepy.” She reached down, ran her palm along his erection, then snagged his belt buckle. “Actually, I want to get back to where we were.” She stripped the belt away. “Before we were so rudely interrupted.”
She pushed him back, then headed up the stairs, a sexy sway to her hips as she dangled his belt behind her. “Are you coming?” she asked over her shoulder.
They both would be soon. Very soon.
He pulled his shirt over his head as he followed her. By the time he reached the bedroom door, he had his jeans undone.
“No fair,” she said with a slight pout. “I wanted to do the honors.” She dropped to the floor, hooked her fingers into the waistband of his jeans and tugged.
He gripped her wrist. “Stop.”
“No. You said next time it would be my turn. And it’s next time. So...” She nipped at the cotton of his boxer briefs, her hot breath warming the material and searing his dick. “My turn.”
After everything that had just happened, he wanted to be the one giving the pleasure, not taking. Before he could utter another word, she slipped his boxers over his hips, and ran her hand along his cock. He clenched his teeth, and looked down at her.
Her face was flushed, her eyes glittered with need, desire and so much tenderness, it humbled him. Holding his gaze, she took him into her mouth.
Exquisite, he thought through the sexual haze now consuming him, as he ran his hand through her soft curls. He’d never met another woman like her, and doubted another would ever compare. He’d be a fool to walk away from her. She accepted him. His faults, his baggage. Without question, without hesitation. And at this point, he didn’t care if he’d only known her for a few days, or that the circumstances that they’d met under were not exactly ones that they could share with their children.
He gripped her hair as the thought of seeing Celeste, her belly round with his child, pierced his heart. She looked up at him, her mouth poised at the head of his cock. The words were there, at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t say them out loud. The fear of voicing any more than he already had tonight stopped him. Now wasn’t the time. He wasn’t sure if he could fulfill the promises he wanted to make, or whether or not she wanted to hear them.
She kissed his arousal, his stomach, then inched up his torso until she stood toe to toe with him. The uncertainty on her face, in her eyes, had him cupping her cheeks. “Don’t.”
“I...I’m not all that experienced. If I didn’t—”
“Don’t,” he repeated, and unsnapped her je
ans. “I love the way your mouth feels on me.” He tugged at the material, drawing her closer to him, then leveled his lips to hers. “I need to be here.” He cupped the apex of her thighs. “Now.”
A smile curved her lips. “Then what are you waiting for?” she asked, her voice breathless as she reached for the hem of her shirt.
While she tossed her shirt and bra off, he shucked her jeans over her hips, then knelt and placed his mouth between her thighs. Though her lacy panties, he nipped and suckled. She drove her hands through his hair, rocked her hips against his mouth and released a harsh moan.
The scent of her, the heat radiating from her, had him hard and ready. He shoved the panties around her ankles and kissed her sex, licked and teased until she flew apart screaming his name.
Something primal swelled inside him. Something he’d never experienced before. He wanted to hear his name on her lips again as he made her come. Hell, he wanted the whole fucking world to know who she belonged to.
He stroked himself as he stood. “On the bed.”
Celeste couldn’t tear her eyes off his hand, the way he moved it over his thick erection. Poised at the brink of orgasm, just from the sight of him, she somehow obeyed, somehow moved her body.
“Spread your legs.”
She snapped her gaze to his and had to bite back a moan. His brown eyes had grown darker. They glimmered with something more than lust, and had her head spinning. He didn’t just want her. He needed her. And she needed him. Every day. Always.
The realization slammed into her. She’d fallen for him. Hard. He’d opened up to her. Let his defenses down, and allowed her to see the man he truly was, the man she truly...loved. Was that possible? To love someone she’d only met a few days ago? Yes, her inner voice screamed and told her not to overanalyze. To show him how she felt, even if she was too afraid to voice the words.
Dark Secrets: A Paranormal Romance Anthology Page 86
