“A set-up.”
Chapter Eight
“Jesse!” Sobbing, Sarah ran through the crowded waiting room straight into Jesse’s arms. He closed them around her with a whooshing sigh of relief, and spent the next several minutes just holding her, rocking her back and forth, periodically lifting his cheek from the top of her head to press his lips there instead. When her sobs finally ceased and he felt her relax against him, he lifted his head, acknowledging the presence of Nikolai Rostov, who’d come in behind her, with a quiet, “Nik.”
The Russian giant was wearing jeans with rips across both knees, a tight T-shirt and, in spite of the fact that it was summer, a leather jacket, mostly to disguise the fact that he was carrying. Most likely a Desert Eagle fifty, his weapon of choice, in the shoulder holster, with a Sig tucked into the small of his back. Releasing his arms to cup Sarah’s shoulders, Jesse pushed her back far enough to be able to look into her eyes. “Is Adam taking Cassie and Maggie to the airport?”
“Yes. They wanted to stay and take a later flight, but we convinced them that that wasn’t necessary. He’ll be here as soon as he gets back. They’re going to call as soon as they land in Boston so I can give them a progress report. He called Nik and Jay to come over and bring me here. Jay’s parking the car.” Her face crumpled. “Oh, Jesse, what happened? Who would do such an awful thing? Is Matt going to be okay?”
“He and Ogre are both in surgery. The doctors will let us know as soon as they’re done. Don’t worry, baby, it’ll be all right.” Circling his left arm around her, he pulled her into his body, tucking her front against his left side. That was when she noticed all the other people gathered in the tiny waiting room. Don and Martha Rendell, Patti’s parents, were sitting on the only sofa, with Patti’s twin brother, Jacob, standing beside them. Jimbo Harrison, along with several other members of the Brigands Bike Club were leaning against the wall or milling about talking quietly, drinking coffee or soda. Brian and Lisa Wilson were also there, grim-faced with grief and worry. Immediately Sarah pulled out of Jesse’s embrace and went over to give Brian a hug. “I’m so sorry, Bri.”
“He’ll be okay, Sarah,” he said, returning her embrace and giving her a kiss on the cheek. “The doctors were pretty optimistic going in. Fortunately for him, he’s got a hard head.” As smiles went, his would only have earned a 3.5 from the judges.
“How about you?” Sarah asked, her own smile not much better. “Are you going to be okay?”
At Brian’s reassurance, Sarah hugged Lisa then went from person to person, shaking hands or giving them a hug, offering her heartfelt condolences to the Rendells, who were only waiting to hear about Matt before leaving for the funeral home to make arrangements for their only daughter’s funeral. Martha Rendell was sitting stoically, dabbing at her eyes with a soggy Kleenex, so Sarah sat down next to her on the small sofa and put her arms around her. “I’m so sorry about Patti, Mrs. Rendell,” she whispered softly. “She didn’t deserve this.”
That proved to be the woman’s undoing. She sagged against Sarah, fisting the sleeve of her blouse and sobbing uncontrollably. “Why?” she wailed. “Why Patti? She was such a good person—a nurse, for God’s sake—she helped people! She wouldn’t even kill a spider. She’d just pick it up in a Kleenex and release it outside! Why would anybody want to kill her? It just doesn’t make any sense!”
“I don’t know why,” Sarah murmured, stroking the distraught woman’s back. “We may never know why. But we will know who. Jesse will make sure of that. And they will be brought to justice, I promise.”
Everyone came to attention as a scrubs-clad doctor strode down the hall toward them. He nodded to Jesse, holding out his hand. “Chief. I’m Dr. Evans.”
“Doc.” Jesse nodded back, taking the proffered hand. “What’s the news?”
“Both men are fine. Mr. Talbot sustained one stab wound to the back. The blade missed any organs. He should be able to go home tomorrow. Mr. Wilson suffered a skull fracture and scalp lacerations. There were numerous shards of some kind of ceramic material embedded in the wounds. You can talk to him as soon as he wakes up.” The physician hesitated, glancing around the room, before looking directly at Jesse. “Uh…about the…uh…could we…uh…”
Jesse gestured with his hand and the two men walked down the hall away from the crowded waiting room. “Okay, Doc, spill.”
“Both men have fresh needle marks in their necks.”
Jesse’s lips thinned. Dart gun. Fuckers used a dart gun! “Lemme guess. GHB?”
Dr. Evans nodded. “I’ve noted it on their charts, and I’ll be happy to testify in court.”
“Thanks, Doc. Are the CSU techs here yet? They’re supposed to test their hands.”
“They’re in there now. I’ll send someone to let you know when Mr. Talbot or Mr. Wilson is awake enough to talk.”
Jesse returned to the waiting room, giving a head tilt to Jay Gillespie, who had arrived and was standing beside Nik. Even at six feet two, and ripped, he was dwarfed by the Russian giant. Jacob Rendell had already left. His parents, Don and Martha, were just leaving. Martha had managed to pull herself together enough to stand without her husband’s support. Jesse took one of her hands in both of his, managing to pull her attention from a horrified perusal of Nik Rostov’s tattooed, shaven head, down to him. “I’m so sorry about Patti, Martha. She was a good woman. We will get to the bottom of this, I promise.”
“Thanks, Jesse. Please tell Matt that we’ll come by to see him later.”
They all watched the grieving couple leave. Then Jesse turned to Brian, giving a chin tilt toward Nik Rostov. “Brian, you know Nik and Jay. As of right now, they are your new bodyguards. They will accompany you and Lisa everywhere you go.” He put up his hands to stop Brian’s protest. “I know you said you didn’t need protection, but, trust me, you do. Adam will send someone else over to your place tonight to take the night shift.”
With a slight smile, Brian raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “All right, Jesse. I know when I’m licked.”
“Good. Go home. Matt’s been drugged and will be asleep for a while yet, so there’s no use hangin’ around here. You can come back later after he wakes up and after I’ve had a chance to talk to him.” He scanned the group. “Same goes for the rest of you guys,” he said to Jimbo. “There’s nothin’ any of you can do right now. So go home and get some sleep.”
It took a few minutes, but finally the little room was clear except for Jesse and Sarah. Perching on the edge of the couch next to her, he took her hand and placed it on his thigh, holding it between both of his. For a long moment, he searched her face, missing nothing—not the frown lines marring her smooth forehead, not the pallor of her skin which only emphasized the shadows haunting her eyes, nor the white lines of fatigue bracketing her mouth. “You’re goin’ home, too, sugar. Just as soon as Adam gets here.”
She jerked her hand away from him, crossing her arms over her chest and glowering at him. “Jesse, I can’t take the day off! Harold Sutton’s assault trial starts today, and I’m lead prosecutor. I have to be there.”
“You don’t. I’ve already talked to Michael. Remember him? Michael Anderson, your assistant? The man who’s worked with you on every aspect of the Sutton case since day one?” Her shoulders sagged, and he knew she’d capitulated. “He’s perfectly capable of handlin’ the openin’ day of this trial, sugar. You’ve had a death in the family. Everyone will understand.”
Her eyes lost focus as her gaze shifted to some invisible point over Jesse’s left shoulder. This was all her fault, damn it. Matt Wilson had been attacked and Patti was dead—dead—all because that asshole, Ryder Malone wanted revenge against her. And he was using Jesse’s family to get it. Damn it, this is so unfair! She wrinkled her nose against the sting of fresh tears, struggling to hold them at bay.
Jesse, watching her closely, knew exactly what she was thinking. “This is not your fault, baby.”
Damn. There he goes with that mind-reading
thing again.
“It is my fault.”
“Not.”
“How can you say that?” she cried, slapping her hand against her thigh. “It’s totally my fault! If it hadn’t been for me, Matt would never have been attacked, and Patti would—Patti would be—” She seemed to hang there, stiff and still, mouth open, suspended in silence. Then she did a full body slump and dissolved into a torrent of tears.
Jesse put his arms around her, scooting back onto the sofa and pulling her against him, turning his head to press his cheek against the top of her head. “Sarah…sweetheart. You cannot take that burden onto yourself. You just can’t. This is no more your fault than it was your fault that Ryder Malone tried to rape you. Are you sayin’ that you were to blame for that, too?”
Sarah was still for a long time, and then the resistance left her body and she sagged into the warm comfort of his embrace. Comfort she so desperately needed. She loved that about him. Loved the fact that he loved touching her, holding her, comforting her. Neither of them had ever had that growing up, so it was a miracle they even knew how. He could very easily have turned out to be a coward and a drunken bully, like his father. But he hadn’t. Instead, he had grown into a man of honor, a man of integrity. A man worthy of being loved. And she did, she loved him with her whole heart and soul, her entire being.
“Patti died because some very bad men killed her,” he went on, his voice low and soothing. “It had nothin’ to do with you.” He loosened one arm to pull her head down to rest on his chest, holding it there with his large hand over her cheek. “I love you, Sarah. I know you try to hide it, but I can see how the strain is wearin’ on you, and I hate that, baby. I absolutely hate it.” He kissed the top of her head. “So, as soon as Adam gets here, you’re goin’ home and you’re gonna at least try to get some sleep.”
She just nodded and closed her eyes, swallowing past the lump in her throat, letting her mind just drift. By the time Adam showed up a few minutes later, she had fallen asleep.
After assuring himself that Sarah was all right, his gaze sought Jesse’s. “Matt and Ogre?”
“Both fine. I’m waitin’ for them to wake up so I can find out what the hell happened. Maggie and Cassie get off okay?”
“Yeah. They really wanted to stay, for Sarah’s sake, but I assured them we’d take good care of her.”
“Speakin’ of which.” He released her cheek to give her shoulder a little shake. “Wake up, sugar. Adam’s here. Time to go home.”
* * * *
She awoke to slabs of sunlight falling across the chocolate-brown, satin-striped comforter that had been thrown over her. She was lying on her left side. Adam was behind her, cradling her buttocks against his groin, his arm tight around her, one hand cupping her breast possessively. His erect penis nestled against her lower spine.
Adam sensed her transition into wakefulness. “Hey, sweet pea. Have a nice sleep?”
“So it would seem.” Her body tightened in a condensed stretch. “Where’s Jesse?”
“Still at the hospital. Ogre just woke up, so Jesse’s questioning him.”
She snuggled her butt tighter against him. He was as naked as she was. And completely, totally aroused. His cock was like a baseball bat pressed into the crease of her ass.
He kissed the soft, warm skin of her neck. It felt like liquid satin against his lips. “Christ, sweet pea, you’re so soft. Softer than whipped cream. And you smell so sweet.” He lifted his hand from her breast and clenched it in the shiny brown mass of her hair, pulling it to his face and inhaling deeply. “So fucking sweet.”
She turned around in his embrace until she was facing him. He pulled her against him, and she could feel his rock-hard cock pulsing and straining against her belly. Cradling the side of her face, fingers still tangled in the silken strands of her hair, he claimed her mouth in a deep, drugging kiss. A kiss that stole the breath from her lungs and sent fire raging throughout her system.
When he released her, she was shaking with a need so powerful she feared it would destroy her. He opened his eyes and devoured her with his hungry gaze.
“How soon will Jesse be back?” she asked, not daring to breathe.
“Not for hours.” He ducked his head to kiss her nose. “He’s giving us this time, love. Time for us to be alone. Just the two of us. So, let’s not be Master and sub for a while. Let’s just be Adam and Sarah.”
“Fine,” she said cheekily. “As long as I get to be Sarah.”
He laughed. “You can be anybody you want. As long as you’re mine.”
“I am yours, Adam. You own me. You and Jesse.” She arched hard against him, feeling his erection thickening and growing between them. Her hand reached up to trace his aquiline nose, noticing for the first time, the tiny, indented scar nearly hidden by his eyebrow. She touched it gently. “Stray bullet?”
“A rock.”
Her hand stilled. “Afghanistan?”
“Millard Fillmore Elementary School. Third grade.”
She laughed, her gaze following her questing fingers as they traveled across his golden blond eyebrows, down the smooth slope of his cheek. Then her fingers flattened and curved around his neck and up to follow the perfect shape of his head, stroking his curls, shining like gold in the slanting sunlight, warm and soft to her touch.
When she’d completed the circuit, she lifted her gaze to his. They stared into each other’s eyes, feeling rather than seeing each other’s skin flush dark with arousal. Hearing rather than seeing the sudden labored quality of their breathing. Without moving, without speaking, they both knew what was coming next.
“Are you going to fuck me, Adam?” she asked quietly.
He shook his head. “No, angel. I’m going to make love to you.”
She closed her eyes. A shivery little moan of anticipation left her throat.
He took her mouth again, thrusting his tongue into her moist, warm cavern, savoring the sweetness of her honey. He drank from her like a parched man drinks from a cool mountain spring in a desperate effort to slake his thirst. A thirst he knew could never be slaked.
No matter how many times he took her, no matter how many times they made love, it would never be enough. His need for her was a vast and endless yearning that could never be satisfied. Not even in a million years of loving. She was his life. His light. His joy. She was the very air that he breathed. Without her his soul would wither and die. “I love you, Sarah. More than I’ll ever be able to tell you in a million lifetimes.” The words were ripped from his heart. “You’ve given me something so precious, I would die if it were ever taken from me. Something I’ve never had before.”
At her questioning look, he speared his fingers through her hair, cradling the side of her face in his large hand. “You, angel. You’ve given me you. And with that one gift, you’ve given me everything a man could ever want—love. Happiness. A haven…a home.” Then his mouth was on hers in a crushing kiss that awoke every nerve ending in her body.
She responded by pressing against him, tiny little mewls of pleasure issuing from her throat as she returned each stroking jab of his tongue with one of her own. They were still kissing when he rolled her onto her back, covering her breast once more, rubbing his palm abrasively over the hard nub of her nipple. Her mewling cries turned into outright moans as pleasure slashed through her.
He lifted his head to look down at her. His gaze was hard. Hot. Hungry. “Are you ready for me, sweet pea? Are you wet and dripping for me?”
“Y–yes.” She was wet, dripping all down the insides of her thighs onto the sheet.
“Is your body aching to join with mine? Aching for my possession?” His eyes were glittering with white-hot arousal.
“Y–yes.” It was a low moan, swallowed, as she sucked in her breath. Her belly clenched. Hot cream poured from her in a tide. When she finally found her voice, she didn’t recognize it as her own. “Yes, my darling. I am ready for you. Aching for you.”
“Spread your legs, Sarah mine,”
he ordered. His voice was harsh, but not with anger. With need. Hot, destructive need. Need that flamed in the blue depths of his eyes as they looked at her. Devoured her. Incinerated her.
“Adam,” she breathed softly, watching him as he rose above her. Holding himself up on one hand, he used the other hand to position the head of his cock at the weeping portal of her cunt. He pushed in just enough to stretch the opening, pausing before completing the invasion.
She was weeping, tears falling unheeded from her eyes, dripping into her hair, pooling in her ears. His face was mere inches above hers, his expression intense. She touched his cheek in awe. “Come inside me, Adam. I need you inside me.”
He entered her slowly, penetrating her in one long, excruciatingly slow slide that stretched her elastic walls one centimeter at a time and had her moaning, shuddering in pleasure. She could feel the broad head of his cock as it parted her willing flesh, distending her, leaving pure ecstasy in its wake. The breath shuddered from her lungs, ending on a whimper of pure joy. Oh, God! How he filled her! How he pleasured her as he slid all the way in until she felt his balls tap gently against her ass.
He held himself still above her, his lips clamped shut, face tight with strain, sweat beading his skin. “Christ, Sarah! You’re so tight. So fucking tight! I don’t know how long I can last! I’ve never had a woman test my control the way you do. You’re just so damn responsive!”
Then he began his withdrawal, reveling in the rippling undulations of her cunt muscles as he slid just as slowly all the way back out. Out, out, out. Jesus Christ on a cracker! She was gripping him so tight he was in imminent danger of spilling his seed and ending this way too soon. Hissing in a breath through gritted teeth, he began mentally reciting the SEAL training manual as he pleasured her with slow, deliberate thrusts in and out of her melting sheath. In, in, in. Out, out, out.
She was gasping now, sobbing breathlessly as pleasure wracked her. Her senses were in chaos. God, she needed to come! She angled her hips upward, striving desperately to achieve the maximum friction of his cock against her swollen, needy clit. “Please, Adam, please…”
Owning Sarah [Sequel to Loving Sarah] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 20
