Forever With You (Silver State Series)

by Renae Kelleigh

  I can’t imagine what Tawny had been doing in the corral, away from all her friends and the moron she apparently calls her boyfriend – then I remember she rides horses. She must’ve been visiting with them. I’ll bet she’s some kind of horse whisperer – she’s so angelic and soft-spoken, I could see one of these giants lying down for her. God, she’d looked so amazing in that wet swimsuit, with miles of tanned legs and her auburn hair hanging in a damp curtain past her waist.

  Needless to say, I’m distracted. My horse seems to pick up on the fact I’m not totally into it, because he (or she?) keeps dipping his head and shaking his mane while letting out a low snort, almost as if he’s disgusted with me. I can’t blame him. I’m pretty disgusted with me, too – mostly because I didn’t run after her.

  Chapter 30 – Violated

  Wednesday, March 22

  Tawny – 8:00 PM

  I comb my fingers from the roots to the ends of my hair as I stand in front of the mirrored closet doors, then wipe my sweaty palms against my short denim skirt and tug on the hem of my yellow racerback tank top. Aiden will be here any minute to walk with me to the restaurant he chose for our romantic evening out. What I can’t figure out is, why am I so nervous? I’ve been on dozens of dates with Aiden – why should this one feel any different?

  The truth is, deep down I know the answer. Scarcely a minute has passed all afternoon when I wasn’t thinking in some way about seeing Kyle earlier…with that girl. Macary – as if I could forget the way her name had sounded when Kyle had spoken it that day. They must be down here together, the way Aiden and I are. God Almighty, how I wish I didn’t care – but I do.

  I turn and walk over to my bed to grab my purse and slip my feet in a pair of slingback wedges – the same ones I wore for my photo shoot with Kyle. I sit on the foot of the bed to wait, breathing slowly in and out in an attempt to slow my pulse. Vivian already left with the others to find food in town, so thankfully I have the room all to myself.

  Just as I begin to regain command over my heart rate, a loud knock at the door sends it spiraling out of control again. Aiden waits for me on the other side in a white button down shirt, worn untucked over a pair of dark jeans. His sleeves are pushed up to his elbows, showing off his veiny, muscular forearms.

  He lets out a low whistle. “Damn, babe. Turn around.”

  I obediently spin around in a slow circle, feeling self-conscious as I do. As soon as I’m facing forward again, Aiden slips an arm around my waist and pulls me up against his hard chest. “You look really hot,” he says huskily in my ear. As I look into his eyes, I can’t help noticing I’m almost the same height as he is in these shoes, whereas Kyle had still been a couple of inches taller. I squeeze my eyes shut, mentally berating myself for making the comparison.

  “Thanks,” I reply, straining ever so slightly against his iron grip. For a moment I think he might push me backward into the room and lock the door behind us, dinner reservations be damned. I have to admit, the thought makes me squirm a little. I drop my head to the side as he plants a hard kiss against the side of my neck; my breathing comes out shallow, and my eyes are wide open, staring out into the empty hallway behind Aiden.

  Gradually he loosens his hold on me and shoots me a tortured look as he drops his hand to tangle with mine. “To be continued,” he murmurs. I try for an effortless smile as he tugs me out into the hallway and the door shuts and locks behind us.

  Don Miguel’s is a part of the resort; it’s a swanky restaurant that serves steaks and fresh Mexican seafood. Floor-to-ceiling windows wrap around the side of the restaurant that faces the ocean, while the opposite wall is lined with private cove seating – a wall curves around the back of each table for two, ensuring privacy for the couples seated there. A man in a crisp white shirt and black sport coat leads us to one of the alcoves, and Aiden and I both slide in behind the linen-draped table. I notice the wall also seems to be soundproof – from here it’s almost possible to forget the restaurant is packed with other people.

  Our server is a Mexican woman with long black hair pulled back at the nape of her neck in a neat ponytail. She recommends a vintage bottle of white zinfandel, which Aiden promptly agrees to. I try not to think about how much it must costs as she pours the chilled liquid in each of our glasses. I’ve never cared much for wine, but it looks like I’ll have to choke some down tonight to keep from hurting Aiden’s feelings.

  After we’ve placed our entrée orders, Aiden tucks his hand between the seat and the small of my back and begins kneading his fingers into the taut muscles there. “So, are you glad you came?” he asks in a low voice.

  “Yes, I am – thank you for inviting me,” I reply. “Otherwise I’d probably be in Winnemucca right now, eating popcorn and watching ‘Cosby Show’ reruns.”

  He chuckles. “Nah, if we hadn’t come here I would’ve taken you back to Vegas with me. You could’ve met my folks, and then we’d stay at one of the casinos on the Strip.”

  I force a smile. Aiden’s never talked to me about meeting his parents before; he’s also never expressed any interested in meeting mine. I remind myself not to read into it – we’ve been dating for close to five months now, after all. That’s probably an acceptable amount of time to start thinking about meeting each other’s families. Besides, I think, at least he’s already met Rhiannon.

  Our food is delivered on platters covered in domed lids like you’d see in old movies. We tuck in, savoring the freshness mingled with the spices as we continue to sip (or in Aiden’s case, guzzle) our wine. Our conversation doesn’t always flow smoothly, probably because I’ve been so unfocused; sometimes I have to work really hard to concentrate on what Aiden’s saying. Thankfully he doesn’t seem to notice – I think the massive amount of wine he’s imbibed may have something to do with his lack of concern. He’s basically polished off the entire bottle all on his own.

  At one point Aiden leaves to use the restroom. I sit back and lean my head against the wall behind me. Idly I wonder if Kyle and his girlfriend are out on a date tonight as well – maybe they’re even here, ensconced in one of these private alcoves, sharing a moment of tenderness. I sigh, minutely shaking my head to clear the thought. Suddenly I feel very tired, and the thought of my warm, inviting bed seems really appealing.

  When Aiden returns he insists on ordering dessert before settling up the tab, despite my protests that I’m way too full to think about eating anything else. “But you barely touched your food!” he argues as he gestures at the plate of half-eaten Ahi tuna in front of me. He’s right – I hadn’t even realized I was pushing my food around my plate more so than actually eating it. Finally I concede, and we order a piece of coconut cake to go.

  “Let’s go for a walk on the beach,” says Aiden, picking up my hand again and kissing my palm as we exit the restaurant, doggy bag in hand. I don’t have the heart to tell him how exhausted I am, so I just nod. We set off along the shoreline. The tide is out, leaving a sheen of salt water across the sand that glows in the moonlight. My wedges stick a little in the softness, so I take them off and hook the straps over my fingers, letting them dangle at my side as I circle Aiden’s waist with my other arm.

  “God, isn’t this amazing?” he says, lifting his chin to gaze up at the moon and stars. He glances back down at me, a half smile stretched across his face. “Whaddya think – move down here with me?”

  “Only if we can live on the beach,” I say. “And have one of those roofs made of leaves.”

  He laughs louder than really seems fitting for the lameness of my joke. It’s my first real indication that Aiden is drunk. He’s leaning into me just slightly as we walk, and his breath stinks of alcohol.

  We’re approaching the footbridge that goes out to the pier, which is teeming with other gringos. Up on the boardwalk the music is blasting and the lights are bright, but down here there’s only quiet darkness. I feel a chill pass through me as we step into the shadows and quicken my pace, anxious to cross to the other side, but Aiden p
lants his feet, causing me to bounce back against his chest. He turns me around, his hands clutching at my upper arms.

  “Tawny,” he whispers – then his mouth is on mine, his lips working desperately, longingly, to open my lips. Initially I’m stunned. I feel myself go rigid in his arms, which apparently only makes him feel the need to work harder. After a minute, though, I begin to relax. It’s just Aiden, I think. It’s not like this is anything we haven’t done before.

  I allow him to deepen the kiss as he pushes me back against one of the wooden pylons supporting the bridge. His hands tangle roughly in my hair as his mouth moves on to hungrily capture my jaw, neck and shoulders. Meanwhile, I wrap my hands around his waist to steady myself and keep from falling backwards. Aiden shoves my shirt up and pulls the satin cups of my strapless bra down, then closes his lips over my left breast. I pant, whether from shock or desire or panic I can’t tell, as he tugs at my nipple with his teeth while grinding his thumb into my right breast. Something about this is beginning to feel…different.

  “You can touch me, too, you know,” he murmurs into my ear when he comes up for air.

  Meekly I stick my hands up inside his shirt and rub my fingertips against his stomach, but Aiden seems to be running short on patience. He reaches under his shirt, grabs one of my hands and moves it downward to rest against his crotch, which is swollen with need. He uses the full weight of his body to push me back against the pylon, and I whimper in surprise. Aiden seems to mistake the sound for evidence I’m just as turned on as he is, and consequently his caresses only become more fevered.

  “I want you, Tawny,” he growls while simultaneously using his knee to shove apart my legs. Before I’ve even had time to process his words, he’s reaching beneath my skirt to rub his hand against my covered opening.

  Purple dots ripple and surge and break apart before my eyes, reminding me of the shifting patterns inside a kaleidoscope. At first I’m only vaguely aware of the fact I feel faint – then suddenly the thought seems more urgent, and I worry I may black out. I slump against the pylon, my knees growing weak as Aiden begins unbuttoning his shirt. For a split second he stands back to let the material slide off his arms and onto the ground, and I feel like I can breathe again.

  “Tell me you want me,” he says as he nuzzles my neck. He bites softly at the tender skin on my bare shoulder.

  I don’t know what to say, so I don’t say anything. Fortunately or unfortunately, Aiden doesn’t seem to require any encouragement; he keeps up his frenzied stroking as if I’d just begged him to take me right here.

  The thing is – I don’t want this. Not here, not now, and not like this – yet I feel powerless to stop it. I can sense whatever measure of control I may have had over the situation slipping out of my grasp as Aiden jerks my arms up over my head and rips off my shirt and bra. I feel like a car stuck in a ditch – the tires are spinning, but I’m not going anywhere.

  “Aiden, stop,” I say. I can feel the back of my throat closing as I speak; I’m not even sure he heard me. If he did, my words have little to no effect on him, because his only response is to lift me up by my thighs and settle my legs around his hips. I have no choice but to hang onto him as he takes a step away from the bridge’s support beam and crashes to his knees. He lays me back against the sand and gazes down at my half naked body as he begins unbuckling his belt.

  Suddenly this all feels very real. I begin vehemently shaking my head from side to side; my entire body trembles. “No, Aiden,” I say as he lowers himself on top of me, my voice barely louder than a whisper.

  “You’re so beautiful, Tawny,” he tells me as if he hadn’t even heard me. “So incredibly sexy.” He settles my legs back around his hips and begins rubbing me again, this time underneath my panties. The overwhelming fear must be plain on my face, because for a moment he stills his hand and frowns at me. “Quit acting like I’m gonna force you, babe,” he says.

  I can feel his erection pressed between my legs now, poised to enter me. I open my mouth to speak, but only a choked sob sounding vaguely like the word “no” escapes. Oh God – this is happening.

  Kyle – 9:30 PM

  It doesn’t surprise me that every one of my friends seems to know something is up. At dinner they all alternated between looking at me and exchanging curious glances amongst themselves. Not that I cared – I was too busy inspecting every girl who walked by to see if she could be Tawny.

  After dinner they all decided to go for a night swim and hang out at the cantina. I made it clear I needed to be alone, and wandered off to check my e-mail at one of the terminals in the business center. The only message I cared about was from Donna; I sent her a brief reply, letting her know Mexico is great and wonderful, and I’m having a fantastic time. Then I went back to my room to lie down. Half an hour later my thoughts hadn’t quieted any, and I decided I needed a way to spend some of this pent-up energy – so, I strapped on my running shoes and headed out for a jog on the beach.

  Running on sand is different than running on pavement or a track, that’s for sure. I have to push myself harder to cover the same amount of distance, since I encounter resistance at every step. It feels good to use my muscles and rely on my body for something other than the queasy feeling it gets whenever I think of all my missed chances in life, and especially in the last six months.

  There’s a party happening on the pier. More curious than anything else, I deviate from my path along the water to check it out. It’s mostly a mob of drunken co-eds doing shots and dancing. Any other time I might be up for joining in on the fun, but tonight it’s not really my scene. Slowly I pick my way back through the crowd and flee back to the comforts of the deserted beach.

  I run until I reach the second pier, maybe half a mile down from the first one. Now I’m in the backyard of a different resort; the clientele at this one looks a little older. I spend a few minutes pacing in circles to allow my heart time to recover, then flop down on my ass and sit with my knees bent, staring out at the black ocean.

  I tell myself I’ll walk back, if only to draw out the time it takes to get there – I’m not done needing to be alone. Once I start walking, though, it isn’t long before the urge to run overtakes my need for extended solitude.

  This time when I reach the first pier I continue in a straight line. It isn’t until I’m almost to the first pylon marking the underbelly of the footbridge that I hear strange sounds coming from some indeterminate distance in front of me. I slow down to a jog, then a walk, proceeding with caution through the darkness.

  When I spot the naked back of some dude on the ground, I first think I must be interrupting an intimate moment. For a fraction of a second my pace quickens in my hurry to get out of their way. Something about it doesn’t seem right, though – the hair on my arms and the back of my neck stands on end, alerting me to some negative vibe I don’t think I’d have picked up on normally.

  Then I hear his words – “Quit acting like I’m gonna force you, babe” – followed by a suffocated sob, and my entire body goes on high alert. Immediately I begin looking around for something I can use as a weapon, but there’s nothing. I turn back around, thinking only of getting the guy off her – that’s when I see bright blue eyes peeking out from over his shoulder, widened in terror. My eyes dart to the shoes lying in the sand nearby – I know those shoes.

  My heart pummels, slams, thrashes inside my chest as an outpouring of adrenaline hardens my nerves and tenses my muscles. I don’t waste any more time going over there and forcibly shoving the fucker off of her. He rolls to the side, obviously in shock at the sudden interruption; meanwhile, Tawny wiggles away and leaps to her feet, crossing her arms to cover her bare chest. A single, silent tear drops from her eyelashes and streaks down her face. For a second my need to confront the predator in our midst is almost choked out by my need to hold her against me and wipe away that tear.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, yearning to touch her but afraid to close the distance between us. She nods without speaki
ng. Taking a deep breath, I look back down at her boyfriend; I size him up as he climbs slowly to his feet. He’s shorter than I am, but he’s decently built. A few months ago I might’ve questioned whether I could take him, but now, fortified by months of lifting weights and fueled by the surge of red hot adrenaline, I have no doubt – he doesn’t stand a chance. I might’ve been toned last fall, but I suspect now I could hold my own in a fight against this jackass even if he was sober and I was blindfolded.

  He glares at me with pure hatred in his eyes. I’m careful not to break eye contact as I reach down and grab Tawny’s shirt off the ground; I toss it back in her general direction. “Go, Tawny,” I say loudly enough so she can hear over the slap of the surf, my voice strangely calm.

  Aiden takes a step forward as he zips his dick back in his pants, but I push him back with a palm against his chest.

  “What the fuck?!” he yells. “Tawny, do you know this guy?”

  I turn my head slightly to the side, keeping him in my peripheral vision so I’ll know if he starts to move again. Tawny stands frozen behind me, clutching her shirt over her perfect chest. I chastise myself for allowing my thoughts to drift for even that small space of time.

  “Tawny. GO,” I hiss. “I don’t want you here for this.” And I can’t have you distracting me while you stand there half naked.

  “My shirt is ripped,” she says softly.

  I turn back around to look at Aiden in disgust – it’s clear he’s seething. Without removing my eyes from him, I reach over my head and yank off my own shirt.

  “Here,” I say, tossing it to her so she’ll at least have something to cover up with. “Now go. Room 307.” I grab my room key out of my pocket and throw it at her as well.

  She takes off without another word as she tugs my shirt on over her head, which of course sends her boyfriend on a wild rampage. “What the hell, Tawny?” he bellows. “Come back here!” He takes a step as if he intends to run after her, but I don’t let him get that far. I give his shoulders a hard shove, and he staggers backward, smacking into the ground. If there was any doubt in my mind about whether he has all his wits about him, it’s just been erased; it’s obvious from the way he crumples onto the sand he’s plastered in addition to stupid.