by Sara Fawkes
We were silent for a while before he spoke again. "Is that why you slept with him?"
"No." My answer was instantaneous, but after I blurted out my answer I paused to think about it. I hadn't wanted to examine the situation until now, as the whole thing still confused me "Maybe. I'm sure that was part of it, in fact it might be a huge part.” I sighed. “Yes, I know he kidnapped me, and yes I know he's nothing but trouble, but..."
I trailed off, trying to make sense of the whole situation. "When you walked out, it hurt. Like, soul-crushing kind of hurt. You called my love a "platitude" and disappeared, and at that moment I didn't know if you'd return. Then Lucas appears, gives me a choice to stay or go, and when I choose you I'm kidnapped—again!—and put on that ship."
"I'm sorry."
I blinked. To hear those words coming from Jeremiah's lips was more than slightly odd. "Sorry for what exactly?" I asked, not quite sure what to think about his apology.
"For not keeping you safe."
Eyes closing, I leaned my head back against the seat. "You really don't get it, do you?"
"Well, what would you have me say then?"
"What would I..." I let out a frustrated groan, crossing my arms. "I'd have you figure that out by yourself."
"Lucy..."
"I was almost raped, almost killed!
Maybe you know how to deal with those kinds of situations, but I don't. I needed comfort, some sense of security, and I didn't know if you even cared that I was..."
The conversation was making me angry, dredging up emotions I hadn't yet dealt with.
Letting out a shaky breath, I stared out the window, the bumps from the cobbled road beneath us rocking me gently.
"But you blame me for what happened."
I sighed. "No Jeremiah, I don't blame you."
"Then why..."
"Dammit, I don't know!" I wanted to tear my hair out at that moment. "Why are we even talking about this? You made it very clear from the beginning that I was no more than a dirty little secret, making me sign that contract."
"So you do think it is my fault."
"Oh my God." I covered my face with one hand. "Why am I even arguing with you?" It was like beating my head against the wall.
"I need to understand," he persisted.
"One day, you say you love me..."
"Which you rejected."
"Lucy, I went for a drive."
"You told me no and then. You. Walked.
Away."
"I looked everywhere for you," he exploded, pounding the steering wheel. "Dammit, when I got back to that fucking house and realized you'd been taken, I did everything I could to find you. Being without you, knowing you were somewhere dangerous and there was nothing I could do, hurt. I couldn't breathe, could barely function, because..." He trailed off, going completely still.
"Because why?" The anger had leached out of me with his rant, like his outburst had been my own catharsis. I didn't know why I was holding my breath, but I was. "Because you loved me?"
I’d meant to say the words sarcastically, but they came out as a whisper. He didn't answer for a long time, staring straight out the window and gripping the steering wheel tight. Then he peeled his left hand off the wheel and laid it across the dash, palm up, as if asking to hold my hand. "Maybe."
Dumbfounded, I stared at him, mouth open in shock. Emotion welled up in me suddenly, spilling over into anger. "You son of a bitch," I choked out, hammering my fist into his shoulder once, then again. There was no way for me to express myself in that moment; all I wanted to do was hit him for being such a, a man.
He didn't move a muscle, letting me vent my frustration and keeping his open hand between us. I hated the implacable calm, the patience with which he sat there. All I wanted in that moment was to beat him into submission, but I crossed my arms and sat there, stewing in my own juices. "You think holding hands is going to fix anything?" I muttered, glaring out the window.
"No, I don't. But it's a start."
My arms remained over my chest as the silence dragged on. Jeremiah continued to drive, stoic as ever, and finally with a huff I unfolded my arms and slapped one hand into his. He didn’t acknowledge my annoyance, but laced his fingers through mine and squeezed tight.
"I hate you right now," I huffed, unwilling to let him know just how right it felt holding his hand like this. Gooseflesh prickled my arm as I looked away, out the window at the countryside, and tried to ignore the joy that wanted to burst.
He hasn’t said anything, you’re just holding his hand. Stop being such a ninny.
But when he squeezed my hand, a smile tugged unbidden at my lips. I made darned sure however, that he didn’t see it.
Chapter 14
We switched cars a total of four times that day, and I felt worse with each theft. Jeremiah kept us well away from larger cities or any place with a hint of cameras, and I appreciated the paranoia. Still, I knew we were in-conveniencing innocents with our deception and didn’t like the idea of being or acting like a criminal.
Then again, I hated the idea of dying much more.
The day bled away with us running zig-zags through the countryside. Jeremiah visited several different phone booths, never spending long before taking us back out on the road again. The second car we acquisitioned had about one hundred pounds stashed away inside the glove box, which Jeremiah pocketed.
“Tell me we’re going to pay these people back eventually.”
“We’ll pay these people back eventually.”
I believed him.
By the time the sun was starting to set, I was ready for a shower and bed. I'd slept very little the previous night and still wore the same clothing I'd left Dubai in, and so wasn't feeling all that sexy. So when we pulled into another little bed and breakfast, this one much more rural, I was done for the day.
Jeremiah had me book the room, another quaint bed-and-little-else, while he took care of the car. I wasn’t sure what he meant, but by that time I didn’t much care. At least this room had its own bathroom attached, and as soon as he disappeared again I stripped down and jumped in the shower.
The hot water lasted nearly forty-five minutes before rapidly going cold, and I relished every minute of it. By the end, I felt more refreshed than I had all day. I dried my hair and wrapped the towel around my body, my next load of business being washing my clothes. That done, I laid them to dry over the metal rails beside the sink and shower.
I’d barely stepped out of the bathroom when the room door opened and Jeremiah stepped inside. We both froze, staring one another across the room. He had a hungry look in his eyes that made my nipples tighten beneath the terrycloth. I watched as he stepped inside and slowly closed the door behind him. The small snick of the lock made me tense.
I backed away into the dresser as he stalked close, towering above me but not touching. My hand gripped the terrycloth tight to my chest as I struggled for words.
“Do you want to talk now?” I asked in a breathless voice.
“Fuck talking.”
My breath seized in my chest. One large hand covered mine, prying it gently from the top of the towel. I swallowed, stomach muscles trembling as his rough skin grazed my chest. Slowly, as if unwrapping a gift, Jeremiah pulled the knot in the top of one breast open before opening each end of the towel like a box.
I shivered as the cool air hit my damp skin but kept my eyes on his. It was a struggle not to move, to cover myself, to run into the bathroom and lock the door behind me. I knew this was bad news; there was no way I should allow it to happen.
But, oh God, I wanted this with every fiber of my being.
His hands skimmed down my breasts, sensitive nipples tightening more against his palm. He didn’t stop there, his hands trailing down my sides as he bent his knees, crouch-ing lower. Those beautiful lips were inches from mine and I lifted my head as his hands moved around and cupped my backside.
I squealed in surprise as he lifted me up, my arms moving behind his shoulders t
o keep from falling backwards. Green eyes stared up at me, and as I wrapped my legs around his waist his gaze dipped to my breasts. “I’ve been thinking about these all day,” he murmured, then tipped his head and grabbed one nipple between his teeth.
My head fell back, body trembling as I bit back a cry. Fingertips dug into my backside as he sucked, flicking the hard nub with his tongue. He moved to the other and I pressed myself again his mouth, fingers gripping his thick hair. “Jeremiah,” I breathed, the word a benediction, and a shudder went through his body.
Still holding me up, his fingers crept to my backside, parting the globes and sliding lower. A choking cry was forced from my lips as he found my core, rough digits gliding through the slick folds. His thumb crept back, massaging another entrance point I knew he loved, foreshadowing no doubt for what was to come.
He stepped back and spun us around, then gently settled me onto the bed. I released him, leaning back against the frilly pillows. We hadn’t pulled back the sheets yet so I was atop the quilted comforter, and it seemed that was exactly what Jeremiah wanted. “Grab the headboard with both hands,” he said, “and don’t let go unless I say so.”
His hands kneaded my abdomen as, trembling, I did as he said. “If you let go,” he murmured, “I’ll be forced to spank you. Nod if you understand.”
I swallowed and nodded as he sank to his knees beside the bed. “I’ve missed you like this,” he said in a soft voice, tracing his fingers over my stomach and hips. “You won’t move, won’t make a sound as I play.
Understand?”
Biting my lip, I nodded again, and squeezed my eyes shut as his hand immediately dipped between my legs. My whole body seized as he dragged one fingertip over the small pearl of my clit, and I fought not to push into his touch. The heel of his other hand smoothed over my belly and down to my mound, allowing me no chance to recover. A finger slid inside me, barely stretching the skin, and my heels dug into the bed as I rose up to meet it.
Almost immediately, his other hand landed against my backside in a sharp spank.
I flinched and settled back onto the bed, swallowing hard as the knowledgeable hands began their onslaught anew.
If this was a punishment, it was pure, delicious torture. I had the headboard in a death grip and worried that I’d bend or break the metal posts from my straining, but they held firm. Any time I vocalized, I got a swat on my rump until the skin there burned.
Holding everything inside however, forcing myself to lay still and endure, only heightened every touch, every caress.
I was a quivering mess by the time his hands left my body, so turned on it almost hurt. Jeremiah stood to his feet, fingers going to his belt. “Hands and knees on the edge of the bed.”
There was pleasure in hearing the stoic commando’s voice tremble as I did what he said. He rummaged through something, and I peeked around to see a paper bag in his hands.
“Eyes forward.”
When I turned around and rolled my eyes he smacked my backside again. “No rolling your eyes.”
There was no way he could have seen that. “Sadist,” I muttered, and even though I’d been expecting it still jumped at the next spank.
“Maybe.” Humor laced his voice, then his hands gripped my backside again, spreading the globes apart. I sucked in a breath as the cool air hit the slick flesh, fisting my hands into the blankets. Then he slid his thumbs up my crack, massaging my rear opening. The skin was still soft from the shower but the ring of muscle was tight as a board.
He leaned down over me. “I’m going to fuck your ass later tonight,” he whispered in my ear, “but first, I need to hear you scream.”
My breathing was uneven as he pulled back, then I felt him kneel beside the bed. I barely had time to press my face into the bed, gripping the comforter tight, before I felt Jeremiah’s lips on me. He ran his tongue along the interior of my folds, and then started his sensual assault on my weeping entrance.
There was no stopping my cries this time, and I could only hope that whatever neigh-bors we had were forgiving. The bed muffled most of them, but Jeremiah wasn’t satisfied until I was a trembling, mewling mess. By the time he pulled away I was a quivering wreck, mumbling
my pleas into the
comforter.
“What did you say?”
“Please. Jeremiah, please, I need...” I squeezed my eyes shut as something thick and blunt probed between my legs. There was no need for extra lubrication; he slid inside me, my quaking walls stretching to ac-commodate his girth. I gasped against a lace pillow, tilting my hips up for his next plunge.
“God, you feel so good,” he grit out, swiveling his hips and surging inside again. I threw my head back and cried out, and Jeremiah grabbed my damp hair in one meaty fist. He didn’t pull hard however, only held me in place as he pounded inside me, stretching and sliding against all the right spots.
The orgasm I’d been denied surged to the surface, but I stayed poised on the brink for an agonizing moment. Nearly crying from need, I pumped my hips in time with Jeremiah’s, but it wasn’t until his teeth grazed my shoulder, running down my spine to the middle of my back, that I tilted over the edge. The lace swallowed my wail as I came hard, and felt him shudder behind me.
Jeremiah collapsed over me, breathing hard. He laid a kiss to my ear, lips playing with the skin there, and then pulled himself out. I collapsed sideways on the bed and watched him clean up. I raised my eyebrows slightly, too tired to do much else. “You got condoms too?”
He winked at me. “Just in case.”
The light-hearted gesture made my jaw drop. I watched, bemused, as he cleaned himself up. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you? Danger without having to deal with the family business.”
Jeremiah didn’t answer immediately, but I already knew the answer. The stoic man I’d come to know had been one burdened by the responsibility of the family business. I knew the story: his father’s mechanizations and death had taken away the only life the rugged man had wanted, forcing him into a mold he didn’t want. It wasn’t until now however that I began to see more, and I cocked my head to study him. “You remind me of your brother.”
Immediately I knew that wasn’t the right thing to say when his shoulders stiffened.
Way too soon for comparisons, I mentally noted. But, in for a penny... “Look,” I said, sitting up in the pillows. “I get that you’ve had a hard life. I don’t even know most of what happened, but what little I’ve seen was pretty crappy. But if you had a chance to do what you wanted, would you still be CEO of Hamilton Industries?”
“No.” His answer was immediate, and very telling.
“Then why are you still there?”
Jeremiah’s face shut down. “I have to be there, or everything will be liquidated. It was how my father set it up: if I leave, everything breaks apart.”
“Then let them liquidate it. Or find a loophole.” I snorted. “Too bad Lucas is a wanted felon, maybe he would’ve taken it back.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“Of course it’s not. But it’s one option.” I pulled the comforter around myself, then rolled over until I sat on the edge of the bed.
The room was small so it didn’t take me far to reach out and snag his hand. “You’ve played hero so much, it’s as though everything in your life has been about saving people. Sometimes however, you have to let go.”
Someone knocked at the door.
I froze, holding the sheets to my chest. At that moment, I was in no condition to run; there was no way I could get a stitch on in time to escape if someone barged through that door. Jeremiah laid a finger to his lips as he tiptoed across the room and looked out the peephole, then opened the door a crack.
“You weren’t followed?”
“If I was, I lost them.”
I knew that voice. Jeremiah opened the door wide to allow the other man inside. I snatched up more blankets to cover myself with as Ethan, Jeremiah’s former head of security, came through the doo
r. He stopped when he saw me, and I felt my face flame in embarrassment. His gaze was fleeting however, and he turned back to Jeremiah.
“I appreciate you coming. Did you have problems getting into the country?”
Ethan shook his head. “I’d had a plane ticket bought already, so it didn’t seem suspicious. I have an interview for a security consultation job outside of London.”
Something passed between the two men in the uncomfortable silence that followed.
Ethan had been with Jeremiah in the Rangers, but the bald man’s presence put me on edge. The last time I had seen him, he’d handed me over to a hired killer. In his de-fense, the killer had traded me for Ethan’s wife, Celeste, but I couldn’t look at him without remembering. Jeremiah had fired his former squadmate over that stunt, and I wasn’t sure what legal issues he had over the incident, so it was definitely a surprise to see him here.
“I wouldn’t have contacted you if I had any other options,” Jeremiah said, his voice flat.
“And for that, I’m sorry,” Ethan replied.
“But I’m here now, and willing to help.”
“Celeste?”
“She’s still angry, but we’re trying to work things out.”
Jeremiah nodded, then turned to me.
“Get some rest, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him I deserved to know what was going to happen too, but the fact we had company kept my lips sealed. Ethan quirked an eyebrow at me but his face didn’t otherwise change, and I knew there was no hiding my status with Jeremiah now. My public persona had always been that of an executive assistant, a role that was discarded in private. Somehow, given how observant Ethan was trained to be, I doubted the lie had escaped his notice, but it was out in the open now.
I thought that, given the danger surrounding me, I’d find it difficult to sleep. The moment my head touched that pillow however, my body melted into the bed and I was out like a light.
Apparently, a life of crime in the British countryside agreed with me.
I didn’t wake up when Jeremiah came in-to the room alone, nor did I stir when he crawled, naked, into bed with me. A small part of me must have been conscious however, because my dreams took on a sensual spin. I wasn’t sure how long I was lost in that haze between sleep and the waking world, but I woke myself up with a moan as something pressed inside me.
