Waking the Lion

by Lacee Hightower

  “That’s perfect, baby. You have no idea how gorgeous you look with me in your mouth.” Resisting the urge to hold her temples tight and fuck her mouth hard and deep until I spray my load down her throat, instead, I take a long breath and try my best to hold off and relax.

  Her tongue licks me underneath and swirls back up and over my head, sucking against the leaking pre-cum as her hands reach for my balls and give them a gentle squeeze.

  “God, Kass. That feels so damn good.”

  Frozen in pleasure, I nearly come from the pressure. With more deep breaths to hold off, I pull her close, my fingers slicing through her hair. “That’s it, baby. Take me deep, sweetheart. And hard. You won’t hurt me.” Frustration still pulling at me, I press her against me with more force this time, her eyes filling with tears when I bump the edge of her throat. Instead of gagging or backing off, she only sighs and grips my hips more firmly, taking every bit of me and moving up and down the length of my cock while she licks me to perfection.

  “Baby … Kass.”

  No longer able to hold off, I pull out of her mouth and ease her up off the floor, settling her on the bed and climbing on top. I suddenly need to empty my load inside her sweet sex and not her mouth, so I push her legs up and start to plunge deep inside. Mascara-laced tears run in rivulets down the side of her face, and she chokes back a sob.

  “Fuck.” I lower her legs back down and jump up off the bed. “I’m sorry, baby. God, I’m so sorry, Kass. I had no right.”

  “It’s okay, Rhett,” she whispers, swiping at the tears on her face. That’s when I notice her eyes and a difference in her makeup. Usually wearing natural colors, she’s got some strange kind of shit lining her eyes today. It’s different. Shiny. It’s gold.

  “Stay with me, baby. Just a little longer. Come on, Lindy.”

  The two Caucasian males are shoving cash in their pockets. I look up for an instant when I hear the sound of Lindy’s wallet dropping on the hard pavement. There’s something gold. Shiny and bright.

  “Remember the gold, Rhett.”

  “Rhett?” Kass is off the bed, dressed. She places her hand on my chest. “What happened just now? You scared me.”

  Hell if I know what happened. Besides the fact that the flashback I just had is heavier than any in the past and has my brain spiraling. I reach for Kass and pull her against my chest, my pulse in a motherfucking frenzy. For a few seconds I don’t speak because I can’t, and like every other time, she doesn’t push me.

  “Just something about that gold shit on your eyes. It gave me a strange feeling. That’s all.”

  Her clear blue eyes blink up at me full of empathy, flooding with tears again. “Please see a therapist. Something tells me you’re close to a breakthrough. Tell me what I can do, baby. Do you want me to go with you?”

  I kiss the top of her head. “I couldn’t love you more than I do right now.” The words come out effortlessly, as easy as my breath. I’ve tried fighting these feelings. But they go nowhere, only growing deeper every time I’m with her. I’m in love with Kassidy Johnson.

  I’ll damn sure never let her down again. I’ll see the therapist.

  Chapter Thirty

  Kass

  Shoving aside the thought that Rhett has a whole other psyche about him that I’m only the smallest bit familiar with, I can barely keep from smiling, still tangled underneath the sheets of his thick comforter after some of the roughest, yet most erotic and sensual sex I’ve ever experienced.

  After long minutes of profuse apologies, he opened up, telling me all about his earlier decision to see a psychotherapist and how Reese knows one personally that specializes in hypnosis therapy. I learned all about the deep-rooted guilt he’s dealing with. His lack of remembrance from that night. The nightmares. Thoughts of taking his own life. He once mentioned being unable to remember and feeling responsible, but I never realized the depth of self-reproach he still lives with. I’ve never asked. Never felt like I should.

  I’ve never felt so close to him.

  After takeout Chinese, I “topped from the bottom” again as he called it. I pushed him onto the bed and straddled his hips. After teasing his nipples with my mouth and stroking my sex against his cock until he finally threatened to punish me with orgasm denial, we indulged in some of the most intense deep, hard fucking we’d ever shared until early hours of the morning. Afterward, he asked me to attend the Blue Hawks’ Casino Night next weekend, a black-tie event held every year to raise money for local charity. I’ll need a dress. And shoes. Shit, just the thought of being around the entire team and some of Dallas’s wealthiest people makes my stomach crawl with nerves. Of course, I could never tell him no.

  Honest about my past experimenting with submission and lack of real knowledge, I made it very clear that I enjoyed what we’d done and wasn’t against trying more. He responded by reassuring me he’d never force anything on me, and we talked briefly about his likes and dislikes and vice versa, ending up in gut-filled laughter. Then, he returned to his normal gentle self, kissing every body part with complete silk and seduction.

  Pulling my heart in even deeper.

  Making me want more and more.

  I’ll never marry again.

  With a lot to overcome, Rhett never intends on anything more than a casual no-nonsense relationship. But he says he loves me. And I believe that he does. I see it in his eyes. Feel it in his touch. In everything he does. Bottom line is, I love him enough to live with that.

  Thirty minutes later, deep into the early morning hours, I suddenly feel the urge to leave, so I do. Rhett isn’t happy about it but accepts it and makes me promise to call when I’m home safe. More than anything, I want to believe it’s all true and real between us. I do. But for now, I need to be alone and deal with the small, lingering feeling that there will only be one true and real love for Rhett.

  And it isn’t me.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Rhett

  Remembering sorrow from one’s past offers the ability to live again in the future.

  Nothing out of the ordinary, the sun isn’t up, but I’m awake. With a second cup of hot black coffee in my hand, I’m standing outside staring at two damn ducks swimming in my pool, swallowing the cool morning air into my lungs.

  Kass didn’t miss my admission on never planning to marry again. I’d seen the light go dim in her eyes the minute I said it. Felt her body turn tense. And I know that’s ultimately why she didn’t stay the night. She doesn’t believe her feelings are returned.

  They are.

  But, I can’t pretend. Won’t lead this woman to believe I’m ready for something when I’m knee-deep in fear when it comes to marrying again. Being responsible for another life terrifies me. I’ve already let one woman down. Broken every promise I ever made to myself. I can’t do that again. I’d never live through it a second time. All this is obvious, but I’m still falling deeper. Craving her every minute of every day. My dick turns to hard steel just thinking about her. So, damn it, where do I go? How do I deal with it?

  It’s way too soon. Too fast.

  I can’t think toward permanent.

  It’s too fucking soon. I’m too fucking afraid.

  Dreams, along with anxiousness about the appointment with Kristin McKnight keeping me too tense to get any real sleep, I ended up on the couch watching a repeat of the European PGA tournament with Polar sleeping in my lap when it should have been Kass beside me in bed.

  After yet another cup of coffee, I swallow down a protein bar, too tense to eat anything heavier, and wander back to my bedroom. It still smells like Kass. And sex. Realizing that my swelling dick isn’t going to ease up, I start a shower. Once the water is nice and warm, I sit down on the ledge and stroke myself off, Kass’s sweet lips around my cock heavy on my mind.

  Nearly two hours later in the bright light of mid-morning, with a crick in my neck from the awkward position on the damn couch most of the night, I’m walking through the door of Dr. Kristin McKnight, fee
ling awkward as hell about this entire thing. The middle-aged receptionist speaks immediately.

  “Good morning, Mr. Gentry. I just need a few forms filled out.”

  The fuck! A clipboard full of paperwork, why do they need all this? I get the general information and insurance crap, but my height and weight seem completely unnecessary. Before I finish the last bullshit about past surgeries and allergies to drugs, the doctor walks in the small reception area and I choke back a laugh. The woman’s fucking hot, which explains Reese’s growing dick at the mention of her name.

  “Rhett.” She greets me, holding out a hand to shake. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you. Can I get you some water or coffee?”

  I tell her I’m fine, and we walk into her cozy office. The only thing I’m thinking about is what a waste of time this is going to be for the both of us.

  “Please.” She motions to a couch and two chairs. “Get comfortable wherever you’d like.” I swallow hard, definitely seeing Reese’s attraction to the attractive blonde as the split up the side of her pencil skirt reveals toned legs up to her fucking chin. Not to mention the stick-straight hair I know my brother prefers.

  The office is small, but comfortable. Her desk is in front of a long window overlooking a fountain and Clydesdale horse sculpture, and a deep mocha leather sofa sits directly across, along with two matching recliners in the corner with a round table between them. I choose one of the recliners and she takes a seat in the other, crossing her legs and giving me a polite smile. As much as I want to bid this Dr. McKnight farewell and say thanks but no thanks, she’s set time aside for me and bailing would be rude to say the least. Plus the fact, Reese would probably kick my ass.

  “Let’s get started with you telling me what you need help with, Rhett.” Despite the frown on my face, she smiles, lifting a white tablet and flipping over onto a new page.

  Jesus Christ, here goes absolutely nothing.

  “I can’t remember anything about the two men who murdered my wife.” I look over at the wall holding her certification, my chest pounding. “And I love another woman.”

  With a nod, she jots down something and looks back up. “So, tell me what you do remember, Rhett. And then about this woman that you love.”

  A long, uncomfortable chill races down my spine. What the fuck made me tell her about loving Kass? That wasn’t the plan.

  “Well, when my wife was injured, I’d also been shot in the shoulder. Fifty or sixty feet away, by the time I managed to get to her, she was bleeding out.” Tight fisted, I shake my head as bitterness fills my throat. Everything I don’t want to talk about is about to be all I’m talking about. Before I can form the right words, Dr. McKnight speaks.

  “There were two men? Is that correct, Rhett?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. Tell me briefly about this other woman you’re obviously struggling over.”

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  “She’s a hair stylist. She works at the salon my older brother Reese goes to.” She already knows Reese is my damn brother. She’s fucked him. Likely will again if I know my brother. I’m stumbling with my words.

  “You have deep feelings for this girl I assume? By the way, what is her name?”

  I ball my fists again, tensing up. “Kassidy Johnson. She goes by Kass.”

  “Okay. And when did you meet Kass, Rhett?”

  I blow out a breath, gripping the sides of the chair.

  “Six months Lindy was injured.” More notes. She’s writing again. What the fuck is she writing?

  Staring at me hard, she smiles. “So, I’m sensing you’re dealing with guilt due to these feelings for Kass?”

  Fuck. She has no idea the guilt I’m struggling with. There’s no way I can possibly make her understand the sick, twisted feelings that race through my mind when I’m least expecting them. The biting remorse that wakes me every damn time my eyes shut.

  “Yeah. The guilt … it’s pretty extreme.”

  She nods, making another quick note.

  “Okay, Rhett. Let me ask you. How are you and Kass doing?”

  How are we doing? How the hell am I supposed to answer that loaded fucking question? That’s the thing. We’re doing great, and for a quick moment I feel a small spark of hope. I love this woman, even though I don’t see myself committing to marriage.

  “We’re doing great. Kass … she’s a great girl. She’s everything. It’s just that … it’s hard to put words to it, Doc.”

  “Do you feel like you’ve let Lindy down?”

  Silent, I don’t answer her question, only nodding, choking down rising acid in my throat.

  Dr. McKnight moves to the corner of her chair and sits upright. “The first thing we need to do is try to see if we can dig up some answers on these two killers. I think that’s what our main focus needs to be for now.”

  I nod in agreement. That’s the reason I’m here. I don’t know why I even brought Kass into the equation. I sure the hell didn’t plan on it.

  “Rhett, have you heard of hypnotherapy?”

  “Yeah. I’ve heard of it. Just not so sure I believe in it.”

  “Fair enough,” she says, uncrossing her legs and then crossing them back at her ankles.

  “Reese says you know your stuff though.” I give the doctor a small grin and rub a hand through my hair.

  “Well, I appreciate that.” Her cheeks blush and she clears her throat, appearing to fight back a snicker at the mention of my brother. She’s fucking him again.

  “I’ve been using hypnotherapy for about six years now, and I’ve found it to work extremely well in these kinds of situations. But only if you’re comfortable with trying it. You have to be able to relax completely.”

  Motherfucking shit. Hell no, I’m not comfortable. This is about the most uncomfortable bullshit experience I’ve ever taken on. But if it can work, it will be well worth my discomfort.

  “I’m anything but comfortable, Doc, but that’s not why I’m here, is it?”

  Fifteen minutes later I’m closing my eyes like she says, relaxing to soothing music playing in the background. Trying to focus on the sound of her soft voice like she’s asked me to. She’s talking, restating the facts I’ve given her. I’m listening, my mind drifting in and out.

  “You see flashes of gold somewhere,” she says in her soothing tone.

  Gold. I see it, but it’s small. It appears, but then it’s gone just as quickly. I can’t remember. Nothing makes fucking sense. I only see Lindy. The wound in her neck. The glazing of her eyes. She’s trying to speak. Attempting a smile. The gold flashes in front of me again. There’s black, too. I haven’t seen that before. What the fuck? What the fuck?

  “There’s black,” I mumble. “Spots of black now. I haven’t seen it before.”

  “That’s perfect. Take a long, deep breath, Rhett. Ease your breathing. Relax your hands.”

  My fingers ache from tight fists, but I do what she says. Vicodin. I need Vicodin. I can’t relax any other way.

  “Try looking again, Rhett,” she says. “Take another long deep breath. Wake the gold. Relax and just look. Take all the time you need. It’s there somewhere. You just need to arouse all the dormant memories. The gold may have some black in it as well. Maybe it’s on a shirt. A cap. A hair color. Keep looking. It’s there.”

  It’s goddamned not! And I can’t relax. I’m trying, but my eyes open in a quick flash. I can’t fucking do this.

  Avoiding her eyes, I walk out of Kristin McKnight’s office without so much as a thank you or goodbye. I have an extra hidden stash of Vicodin in my bedroom, which I’ve vowed not to touch, but also haven’t gotten rid of. The whole fucking ground is pulsing underneath my feet. My chest feels like a vise is squeezing the life from me. Lindy’s last words play over and over in my mind.

  I have to remember the two bastards. Have to figure out what the dreams signify, or if they mean anything at all. Otherwise, I’ll never get my sanity back. I’ll never be able to move on. Fuck, maybe I’d be bet
ter off if I just run my car over the edge of a highway ramp.

  End this before it ends me.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Kass

  God knows I love my job, but days like today make just the smallest part of me want to rethink every damn thing. Dealing with the public is just hard at times. Hair stylists are artists. They cut hair, color hair, and offer ideas on changes and new ideas. But, I’m not a supernatural being. I can’t do freaking magic tricks. Can’t shake my gold wand and turn a person with extremely natural curls into stick-straight silky tresses or wiggle my nose and have a pixie cut become shoulder-length hair.

  By the time I get home from a hellish day and pull into my parking place, I’ve calmed myself a little and crave a nice glass of wine. Rhett’s empty car is parked two spots down. Beside my front door, he’s dressed in dark gray jeans and a black button-down with the sleeves rolled up, black boots on his feet. His hair looks like he’s been tugging at it and his eyes are rampant with lust, but also covered in anguish. My whole body shivers. Just the sight of him affects me.

  “Hey, baby. I didn’t expect you. What a nice surprise.” I reach for my keys, his breath heavy and warm against my neck. With a quick open of the door, Rhett kicks it shut.

  “Your bedroom. Take this off.” He gestures toward my long skirt and booties.

  “Are you okay?” I ask after considering for a quick minute. “Were you waiting long?”

  His expression seems to lighten at my question, but then again, maybe not. He’s hard to read right now.

  “Doesn’t matter. I need you,” he growls, staring at me hard.

  A little shaky, I’m wishing he’d just talk to me. Tell me what’s bothering him. But once I look into his blazing eyes, my skin heats and I know that I’m absolutely, positively going to do what he says. What he needs. With a building strain growing inside me, I simply slide my skirt down and pull off my booties, then raise back up and slip off my shirt and bra. In front of him, I’m naked except for my panties. I feel weak and powerless, but also … satisfied. And so damn turned on. So hot for this man.