Blind Trust

by Lynda Aicher

  She lifted a hand, pressed it over his on her cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Thank you. His heart pinched, dug in, but he withheld his wince. He couldn’t remember being this lost. Not since those dark days locked in the closet before his plans were laid out and set into motion.

  He had no plan for this. For Brie.

  He brushed a kiss over her lips, a soft touch that trembled in his chest and threatened everything. He rested his forehead on hers and floundered through the wreckage of his mind.

  A shiver shuddered through her limbs and down her back, reminding him of the basics. “We need to get you dressed.”

  His chest contracted at the site of the tear trailing from the corner of her eye. She quickly wiped it away, looked down. “I’m fine,” she mumbled. “Really.” But her hands shook in her lap and goose bumps stood out on her forearms.

  She was crashing. The same way she had after that first Boardroom scene. It wasn’t unusual after an intense scene, and he kicked himself for not being prepared for it.

  The need to care for her roared up with unexpected force. He slipped his suit jacket off and draped it over her shoulders. She shot him a weak smile as she tugged it around her.

  He kneeled and eased her skirt over her feet. Her giggle had him jerking his head up. She covered her mouth, a bit of the strain leaving her expression when she lowered her hand.

  “Sorry.” She grabbed the waist of her skirt from his hold. “I can get it.” He gave her room to stand, but stayed close. She handled the back zipper with an efficient tug and closed her bra in the next movement. She came to a halt when she grabbed the sides of her blouse.

  A swarm of pride and something close to embarrassment pressed on him. Every button on her shirt was missing. She glanced up, quirked a smile.

  “I’ll replace it,” he promised.

  She didn’t respond as she slid her arms into his jacket and tugged it around her. She tucked her hair behind her ear and slipped her missing heel on as another shiver raked down her torso.

  He hauled her to him, tucked her head beneath his cheek, unable to stand back. She relaxed into him immediately, relief falling out on a slow exhale. This was Brie. He had no idea what he was going to do with her, but he couldn’t stand there and let her struggle. Not after what she’d just shared with him.

  Given him.

  He kissed the top of her head, resolute on his next steps. The plan formed almost without his consent, but he wasn’t backing away from it.

  He kept his arm around her as he ushered her from the building and to his car. The silence held during their drive back to the city. The road hummed softly around them, the mood mellow but not tense. Brie had sunk into the seat, her head back, lids lowered. Her hands were lax in her lap except for that almost unnoticeable run of her fingers over her thumb. His hand fisted with the urge to grab hers.

  He didn’t.

  The traffic picked up as they entered the city. He braced when he cruised past the turn that would take them to work. Her frown marked deep lines in her forehead when she glanced over. Her unspoken question was clear.

  He didn’t answer though, and she didn’t push. He turned the heat up a notch when he caught her shivering again. She was still deep in her drop and he wasn’t leaving her alone. Not like that. Not until he was sure she was okay.

  He gave in and grabbed her hand, squeezed. A wall crashed and burned with that one simple action.

  She stared at him. It prickled over his side and alerted him to the danger of his path. The risks were mounting in stacks that crowded in his stomach in the sick little way he remembered from his youth. Did he make a run for the kitchen to sneak food or wait until dark? Would there be anything left to eat? Would the hunger be better than the beating if he was caught?

  He reluctantly let go of her hand when he turned in to the entrance of his parking garage. The loss slithered up his arm in a cunning cry of See? This. This is what you fear.

  “Why?” Her soft question broke through the quiet.

  He caught the doubt in her expression as he pulled into his parking spot. He found her hand again after he turned off the car. “I’m not dropping you off after that. Not when you’re still shaking.”

  She swallowed, doe-eyed. “Oh.”

  He drew her in for a kiss, his lips holding on hers for a long beat. His heart gave another hard thump before he exited the car. He grabbed their briefcases from the trunk and met her as she got out, his hand extended, assisting her and reassuring himself that her legs were steady. His own thirst was clawing up his throat to reprimand him for his lack of preparation.

  But none of this had been planned. Not even close.

  She clung to his hand, her other clutched his jacket tightly closed. A hundred thoughts swirled in his head now, but no words came out. What should he say? What was she thinking? What the fuck did this mean?

  He led her into his condo, the silence stretching down the hallway into the open space beyond. He dropped their bags on a kitchen bar stool and plucked two bottles of water from his fridge. She meandered past the kitchen to the living room, her heels clicking out her path on the hardwood. Her back was to him, her gaze locked on the view outside.

  He took a long drink from his bottle, finishing half of it before setting it down. The city glowed softly beyond her. He’d neglected to turn on a light, so used to finding his way without it. Late-night visitors had never occurred—until Brie.

  He could say that about so many things.

  She fit perfectly into the space before him as he wrapped his free hand around her waist and held the bottle of water out to her.

  She took it, her weight falling into him in a way that screamed the trust she continued to give him. Would he crush it someday? Unintentionally? Purposely?

  Her water was almost gone, her shivers fading before she spoke. “I don’t understand.”

  He stared at nothing. The city landscape with its sea of multi-colored lights was lost to the gentle rock and slide of peace he was reluctant to label.

  “About what?” He kept his tone hushed, fears shoved back.

  Her low snort carried the sarcasm she didn’t voice. “This. You. All of it.”

  So am I. But he couldn’t say that. “Then stop trying.”

  She set her bottle on the table next to them before she turned in his arms, her scowl only slightly menacing. “I’m trained to understand. That’s my job. Find the facts, sort out the truth and deliver a non-biased analysis.”

  “And this isn’t work.”

  “But it’s related.” She sagged into him, her arms folded between them, her head resting on his shoulder. “It’s all related,” she mumbled, the misery floating out to punch him.

  Was he pushing her? Forcing something she didn’t want? Doubt wedged its way in for the first time since he’d decided to bring her here. “Do you want me to take you home?” The words ground against his throat and chilled the warmth that still flooded his chest.

  She didn’t respond for the longest time, and he prepared himself to step away. He’d broken the Boardroom rules. No, he was simply ensuring that she was okay. She’d been his guest, technically. But she’d stopped shaking, and that dazed look had retreated from her eyes.

  “Do you want me to go?”

  Her question floated up to him on a clear, flat tone. He could feel her withdrawing when she hadn’t moved. That would be for the best, though. They still worked together. She was still his subordinate.

  His arms tightened around her. “No.” He spoke the truth when the denial rested on his tongue. “I’d like you to stay.”

  A long pause followed before she answered. “I’d like to stay.” The soft response whispered of the same doubt and fear cascading through him.

  He squeezed his eyes closed against the wave of nausea that rolled through his stomach. The leap into the unknow
n was terrifying in ways he’d never expected.

  This was already so much more than anything he’d experienced with his ex-wife.

  How? Why?

  Fuck if he could explain it.

  He led her down the hall to his bedroom. The clean lines and stylish decor had all been picked out for him, but he liked the feel of it. It reminded him daily that he was never going back to the scared kid huddled in the closet.

  He flicked on the bedside lamp. “Would you like to shower?” His words came out stiff, drawing another internal wince. Could he be a bigger ass? Yet there he stood, waiting for her response.

  The kid who’d never dated, never hung out, never even thought of bringing a girl home reared his scared head. How could he admit that he had no clue what to do next?

  A smile gentled her expression. She brushed her fingers down his jaw, over his lips. “I’ll just clean up quickly.” Her steps were steady as she crossed the room to the open door of his master bath.

  He sank to the bed the second he was alone, dropping his head into his hands. His heart raced on a wild flight that drew his chest in tighter and tighter. Breathe. Breathe.

  The toilet flushed, and he laughed. The dry rasp tore at his throat to blare his insecurities when there was no room for them. She was just a woman.

  His laugh cut off instantly. That lie wouldn’t work anymore.

  He removed his shirt, every movement concise as he stripped down to his boxer briefs. He quickly used the guest bath, dropped his laundry into the appropriate bins for his cleaning service to handle.

  He slid between the bedsheets, but remained sitting, one foot still on the floor when she came out of the bathroom. Her clothes were held in one hand, the other clutched his suit jacket to her chest.

  The lusty woman from the Boardroom had slid away to reveal this quieter version of Brie, one he could empathize with. The revelation spread in a soothing coat of understanding. They were both a little lost.

  He came around the bed to take her clothes and set them on the chair in the corner. She tracked him, her expression as locked down as his own. The image of a soundless dance flashed in his mind as they tiptoed around the unknown.

  He stood before her, questions and doubts lashing out before he cupped her cheeks and brought his lips to hers. A shiver threaded down his spine in a long sigh of oh fuck and yes.

  Her eyes were bright when he eased back. He caressed her cheek with his thumb, that damn warmth holding steady in his chest.

  “We’ll figure this out,” he promised.

  Her brows lifted. “Will we?”

  He nodded. They had to. There was no other choice.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Brie woke to the blinding glare of the morning light and a warm trail of kisses across her shoulder. Her low hum was hitched on the languid flow of memories weaving their way into her consciousness.

  Ryan smoothed a hand down her abdomen, eased it beneath her panties. His leg slid between hers to spread them apart. She arched into his touch, moving on a wave of filtered awareness. She wouldn’t let herself think, not yet.

  He dipped a finger through her pussy on a slow caress that circled and teased. Her moan gave voice to the pleasure simmering to life. She floated in the hazing mellowness that lent an air of unreality to the sensual heat flooding her. The slow rub of his finger on her clit matched the dreamy brush of his lips as he nibbled her ear.

  She reached back to rub his thigh. The muscles flexed beneath her palm, the power declared. He’d used that strength to thrust into her, hold her up and drive her wild. The memory alone brought a rush of longing.

  She twisted her head toward him, and he covered her mouth with his. The fresh hit of toothpaste broke through her haze for a moment. Just a moment to wonder when he’d woken.

  But then he swiped his tongue over hers, playing so sweetly she could only focus on the slow dip and swirl as she chased his kiss. Gone was the hot wild passion, but in its place was something that burned just as bright, just as powerful.

  He shifted to slip her panties down her thighs. She kicked them off once they reached her knees, and then he rolled, bringing her under him. Her legs opened to cradle him, the hard line of his erection running hot and firm over her mound.

  She arched into her moan, her eyes opening to find the same sultry passion burning back at her. Ryan.

  She drew him down, the faint scruff of his beard tickling her palms. The sensation brought a smile to her lips before she claimed another kiss. Another long, slow exploration that merged to another and another. The kisses melted her worries and breathed life into her hope. Into the wishes and wonder that continued to whirl.

  Time spun out until there was only his touch, down her sides, on her breasts, and the hot press of his lips, over her neck, sucking her nipples. She sought him too. The curve of his back, the line of his shoulders, the smooth plane of his chest. And finally, the hard heat of his dick.

  Her moans carried that same hushed quality that melted her bones and slushed through her blood. They merged with his in a cascading volley until he rolled on a condom and slid into her.

  She stared at him, devouring every dark mystery churning in his eyes. The rich brown color twisted with a haunted intensity she couldn’t place, yet understood. This... This.

  He stilled, his girth stretching her walls in a claim of ownership she welcomed. The rightness thrummed through her and wrapped her heart in its sweet embrace. He moved, pulling out only to descend on the same patient rhythm. The burn simmered in her core as it absorbed the slow, tantalizing build.

  She found his lips again, her pulse crying her wonder. She was still Brie, and every touch, every slow glide into her proclaimed he saw her. He wanted her.

  After last night, after now, there was no denying how much she wanted him.

  She wrapped her legs around his hips, his pace increasing with the insistent need churning to life. The low slap of skin merged with the hushed grunts and purred moans to create its own symphony so sweetly different from the night before. Yet the tune was the same, the notes familiar.

  She rode the crest to a shattering fall that left her breathless and dizzy. Ryan shuddered, groaned, drew her in until nothing separated them. The oneness hummed through her chest with a resounding ring of completeness.

  She held him, her thoughts floating, mind wandering with no destination. She skimmed her palm over the short hairs on the back of his head, her other hand finding the curve of his shoulder and the long line of his spine.

  His last kiss was just as long, just as full and hopeful as his first. She mumbled her complaint when he pulled out, rolling to the side to clean up.

  She studied the line of his spine that ended at the dark shadow of his butt crack. His muscles were compact and sleek, so like the man himself. She smoothed her palm down his back if only to keep her thoughts from running ahead. There was still time to savor this quiet. The storm would hit soon enough. The world still existed beyond these walls, and there was a pile of litigation they needed to attack.

  But not yet. Please, not quite yet.

  Her brows dipped, hand stilling over the faint line of circular burn scars on his lower back. She brushed her fingers over them, compassion flaring. Who’d done this to him? When?

  He turned around, scooped an arm beneath her and pulled her in until she was nestled into his side, her head resting on his shoulder. Her heart fluttered with her sigh.

  She closed her eyes and floated in the peace. This. That was it. Just...this.

  He trailed his fingers through her hair, the strokes slow in an absent-minded way. Each pass released a spray of tingles over her scalp that incited a tiny flash of teasing shivers.

  “I let Carla know we had an unscheduled deposition this morning.”

  Brie sprung up, eyes wide as she stared at him. “We do? When?” Why hadn’t he told her?
Did she have time to go home and change? “What time is it?” She stretched to see the nightstand, scowling at the pristine surface. “Where’s your clock?” Who didn’t have a clock next to their bed?

  His chuckle shook his chest, his smile growing when she leveled her scowl at him. He drew her down to press a firm kiss to her lips. It shifted, smoothed and flowed into another slow, quiet exploration that shoved her concerns aside.

  His smile was still in place when he eased away. Little crinkles formed at the corner of his eyes and the barest of a dimple showed near one corner of his mouth. He swiveled his head in absent wonder, which brought her frown back. “What?”

  “We just conducted the meeting.”

  She twisted her lips, confused, until understanding dawned. “Oh.” She let her head fall, embarrassment sweeping in as his laugh tumbled over her. But he hugged her to him, teasing a defeated chuckle from her. “Thanks for calling.”

  “My pleasure.” He brushed her hair back when she looked up, that smile lingering on his lips. His hair was mussed, and a faint stubble darkened his jaw in a totally rakish way. Burns would never be seen like this.

  “How long do we have?” She squinted out the window, not even fazed by the open view that included a sight line into nearby buildings. Had anyone watched them? Gotten off as they had this morning? Her Libido Bitch purred.

  “I have another meeting at eleven.” He drew a finger down the line of her jaw, leaving a trail of shimmering awareness behind. “I should be at that.”

  A ping of guilt worked its way into her glow. Blowing off work to get laid didn’t fall within the good-girl code. But he’d done it too. And he was her boss.

  Reality landed like a cold bomb. She dropped her gaze, doubt and questions rushing in. They wiped out the mellow contentment and stomped all over the hope that’d dared to rear its head.

  “Hey.” He urged her chin up, his frown confused. “What just happened?”

  She searched him. Did he have no concerns? Fears? “What about this?” She motioned between them.