Hidden Away k-3

by Maya Banks

  A ridiculously giddy thrill rocketed up her spine, forcing a grin to her face. Sexual relationship. She was calmly contemplating a sexual relationship and furthermore, so far, she’d been the aggressor.

  She had the absurd urge to stand up and do a double-fist pump with a yeah attached for emphasis.

  What Allen and Stanley Cross had done hadn’t been about sexual attraction or even sex. It was about power and the ability to inflict their will on someone weaker. Allen had raped her because he could, not because he was overwhelmed by desire.

  Garrett wanted her. He desired her. But he held himself back because he was afraid of scaring her. She found that fact endearing, and it only made her want him all the more.

  She watched as Garrett placed the dessert into the fridge and her breath caught in her throat as he returned to the table.

  “So what do we do for the next thirty minutes or so?” she asked.

  “Well, what I want to do is going to take a hell of a lot longer than thirty minutes.”

  Oh lordy. Her hormones just went haywire.

  “Maybe we could just talk,” she murmured. There was a lot she still had to tell him. Preferably before she got swept away and became so senseless she forgot her name.

  He moved closer to her, put his hand on her face, stroking over her cheekbone and then into her hair.

  “What would you like to talk about?”

  She took a deep breath. “I have something I need to tell you.”

  His brow furrowed in concern and his fingers stilled on her face. “Okay. I’m listening.”

  Sarah glanced around. She hadn’t seen Rio or his men since they’d arrived at the house, but she couldn’t dispel the unease or the fear of being overheard. She peeked back at Garrett and chewed nervously at her bottom lip.

  “Can we go into the bedroom? It’s ... private.”

  Garrett’s look of concern deepened, but he turned without question, snagged her hand and pulled her gently toward the bedroom.

  Once they were inside, he closed the door and faced her. “Whatever’s most comfortable for you.”

  “You sit,” she said. “On the bed. I’d prefer you not to loom over me. This is ... hard ... for me.”

  Garrett turned toward the bed, but he laced his fingers with hers and pulled her with him. He sat on the edge and then positioned her between his legs. He held both of her hands and looked up into her eyes. Then he squeezed. Just a simple gesture of support, but it meant the world to her.

  “I’ve never told even Marcus this,” she said frankly. “I might have eventually but after what he did to Allen, I knew I couldn’t. He would have gone crazy. Saying aloud that Allen raped me was bad enough. I couldn’t bear the humiliation of telling the rest.”

  Garrett’s face darkened. “The rest? You mean there’s more?”

  She nodded slowly and tears pricked the corners of her eyes. She sucked in steadying breaths and blinked to hold the burn at bay.

  “Tell me,” he said gently.

  “You need to know. I should have told you the minute you told me that Stanley Cross had hired someone to find me. I was too ashamed.”

  Garrett’s thumbs rubbed softly over her wrists and his gaze never left hers.

  “He ... he was there. The night Allen raped me. He ... helped.”

  Garrett’s lips curled into a snarl and his nostrils flared. She felt the quick huff of his breath and saw the tightening of his jaw. “The son of a bitch raped you too?”

  Sarah closed her eyes and shook her head. “No. Well, yes, but not in the physical sense. He didn’t penetrate me, but he may as well have. He watched Allen and laughed. Then he held my arms so Allen could finish the job. When Allen was finished, Stanley spit on me and told Allen to hire a new assistant because the one he had wasn’t a challenge any longer.”

  Garrett swore long and hard under his breath and his fingers tightened around her hands.

  “The night Marcus killed Allen, as I ran from the building, Stanley was there. He stopped me when I got off the elevator. He asked what the hell I was doing there. I knew he’d either think I killed Allen or that at the very least he’d know I saw who did. I also know he wouldn’t want what he and Allen did to me to ever become public.”

  She shivered in Garrett’s grip as the words fell baldly between them.

  “I know I should have told you before,” she said softly. “As soon as I knew Marcus had sent you to protect me. You needed this information. I was certain that the person who broke into my cottage on the island was someone Stanley sent to kill me. It’s why I left and why I finally accepted help from Marcus.”

  “Come here,” Garrett said softly as he pulled her into his arms.

  He circled her body and hugged her close to him. It didn’t seem to satisfy him. He pulled her down until she sat across his lap huddled to his chest. For a long moment he simply held her and pressed tender kisses to her hair.

  Tension simmered through him. His muscles quivered beneath her skin and she could literally feel the battle he waged to get his anger under control.

  “I’m going to do my absolute best to protect you, Sarah. I need for you to believe that.” He pulled away and nudged her chin until she returned his gaze. “I also need for you to believe that you aren’t just a job. This is personal for me. I care a lot about you. We have a connection. One I can’t explain. I’m not really interested in why. I protect the people I care about with my life.”

  Tears shimmered making her vision grow blurry. He swam in her sight and her heart stuttered and jumped erratically. She raised shaking fingers to his face and traced the line of his cheekbone.

  “I will kill any man who tries to hurt you. And you can believe, if you believe nothing else, I’m going to make Stanley Cross regret the day he ever took part in hurting you.”

  She shivered at the violence in his voice. She believed him. There was nothing but stark truth in his eyes.

  She leaned her head forward until her forehead touched his. Their mouths were a mere breath apart. She closed her eyes as a tear slid down her cheek.

  His warm lips kissed away the damp trail. He was so exquisitely gentle that her chest tightened unbearably with a swell of emotion.

  “I’m sorry that happened to you, Sarah,” he said in a voice tight with the same emotion knotting her throat. “I’m so damn sorry. If I could take it away I would.”

  She slid her mouth over until it aligned with his. “But you can replace it,” she whispered.

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded. “I need you, Garrett. Only you. I’m not afraid. With you I feel so strong.”

  He framed her face with both hands and kissed her long and leisurely, his tongue delving deep as he explored the inside of her mouth. She sighed and melted against him, his heat seeping into her bones.

  When he pulled away, she saw something in his eyes that surprised her. He looked ... uncertain. And now he hesitated as he stared softly back at her.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “I’m afraid.”

  Her eyes widened. “Afraid? Of what?”

  He touched her swollen mouth with one finger and ran it along the seam to the corner and back across. “I’m afraid of doing the wrong thing. I’m afraid of hurting you. Of frightening you. Sarah, honey, I’d die if I did anything to make you go back to that night. I’d do anything in the world to make this right for you.”

  She smiled then and for a moment she couldn’t breathe around the sting in her nose and the hard knot in her throat. “You will. Oh, Garrett, you’ll be just perfect.”

  She flung her arms around his shoulders and hugged him tightly. She buried her face against the side of his neck and inhaled his scent. Slowly he circled her body with his arms and hugged her back just as fiercely as she held him. Then he brushed his lips across the curve of her neck and spread a line of tiny kisses to her shoulder.

  She felt free in a way she hadn’t felt in a very long time. It was as if something inside her lo
osened and so much of what she’d kept suppressed came bubbling out.

  Carefully she pushed away from Garrett and slid off his lap to stand in front of him once more. It was important to her to be an equal in their lovemaking. Oh, she had no doubt that Garrett would be exquisitely tender. But she wasn’t going to be a wilting ninny who had to be coaxed at every turn.

  She was a normal, healthy woman. She’d had lovers before. She wasn’t a stranger to passion. She could do this.

  Her gaze never leaving Garrett’s intense blue eyes, she began to undress. Leisurely. Unhurried. She peeled off one item at a time, gauging his interest with every piece that fell to the floor.

  His eyes smoldered. It was a wonder she hadn’t gone up in flames. He watched her like a wolf watched his prey, his gaze stroking over her body like a paintbrush spreading liquid fire.

  Finally she lowered her panties and let them pool at her feet. Then she pulled the straps of her bra down her shoulders until the cups fell away from her breasts. A mere second later, she tossed aside the bra and stood before him naked and trembling—not in fear—never in fear.

  “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he asked hoarsely.

  “Right now I do,” she whispered. “The way you’re looking at me makes me feel like the most beautiful, desirable woman on earth.”

  “As you should.”

  Much as she’d done, he rose from the bed and stood just a foot apart from her as he began to slowly undress. His jeans dropped to the floor, leaving him in his boxer briefs. The material hugged his behind and his groin, outlining the sheer beauty of his physique. Her gaze was riveted to the bulge and to the thick erection being restrained by his underwear.

  He pulled his shirt over his head. The muscles in his chest and shoulders rippled magnificently as he stretched. She simply couldn’t help herself. She had to touch him.

  She pressed her palms to his broad chest and smoothed them upward to his shoulders. He trembled and flinched, his breathing raw and harsh, pushed from his chest in torturous sounding spurts. His reaction surprised her but when she looked into his eyes, she saw the same desperate need that unfurled inside her.

  She stepped even closer until his body heat wrapped around her. The first touch of his flesh against hers was an electric shock. He was lean and hard, rough and hairy. She wanted to rub herself all over him like a cat.

  “You’re killing me, honey,” Garrett rasped out. “Lord have mercy, but you’re killing me.”

  She smiled and reached for the waistband of his underwear. He sucked in his breath as she started working them down over his hips. His erection sprang free and bumped against the softness of her belly. She let go of the material, not caring where it went. She wanted to touch him. It was an urgent, restless need that took over. She ran her fingertips lightly up his sides, grinning when he shivered in response. They danced across his chest and then slid down to his belly and then lower still.

  “Son of a bitch,” Garrett muttered as he pried her hands away from his cock. “If you so much as breathe on me, I’m going to come and then I’ll be so humiliated I’ll never be able to get it up again.”

  She laughed and took a step back, more so she could look at him, all of him. Oh but he was beautiful. She thought that a lot about him, but it was so true. He was the perfect male specimen. Rough. Hard. Strong. A warrior in every sense of the word. There was nothing easy about him. She doubted there was a soft part on his body. And she wanted his hands on her more than she wanted to breathe.

  “Touch me,” she said in an aching voice. “I want to feel you.”

  He slid his hands over the sides of her neck and up to frame her face. His mouth came down on hers in a heated rush that stole her breath. His mouth was so gentle over hers, but insistent too.

  The warmth of his tongue licking delicately at her lips sent a shiver down her spine. He tasted her like she was a delicious treat he was sampling. And as if he found it decadent, he pushed inward, wanting more. She met his advance, rubbing her tongue over the roughness of his. There was a hint of caramel, proof he’d snuck a taste while he’d been making dessert.

  He sucked lightly at her bottom lip, pulling it then letting it go as he delved once more inside. Then he retreated and nibbled at her upper lip to the corner where he peppered her with tiny kisses. His mouth slid from her mouth to her jaw, tracing a line to her ear.

  His breath blew over the delicate shell of her ear even as he sucked the lobe between his teeth.

  “I want to savor you all night,” he said in a rough, husky voice. “I’m going to take this slow. I want it to be perfect. So perfect. Now that you’re finally mine, I’m going to kiss every inch of your body. I want to touch you and taste you and love you until you know in your heart that I’ll never hurt you.”

  Her legs turned to jelly.

  Which was okay because he bent and looped his arm underneath her quivering legs and hoisted her into his arms. He turned and walked the few steps to the bed and gently laid her down on the mattress.

  He loomed over her, staring down at her like she was a feast he was about to devour. His gaze was fixed on her as if he was totally absorbed in her. Just her. It was a heady, giddy feeling that sent tingles of excitement through her blood.

  The mattress dipped as he crawled onto the bed beside her. At first he contented himself with touching her. Just as she’d asked. And oh but his hands were wonderful. She was right. They weren’t soft—she knew that already. But the way they glided up and down her body in a reverent manner made her feel as though she was a goddess being paid homage to.

  He levered himself over her so that his body half covered hers and he stared down into her eyes, his expression serious. “If at any time I do something you’re not okay with, tell me. I’ll stop immediately.”

  She wanted to cry. Not because she was sad. Or afraid. But because he made her feel so protected and ... cherished. It was a welcome change from fear and shame, from anxiety and fear.

  “Promise me.”

  “I promise,” she whispered. “Now kiss me.”

  His body pressed flush to hers as he lowered his mouth to capture her lips in yet another searing, soul wrenching kiss. Her breasts pressed into his chest, the light mat of hair teasing her nipples to hard points.

  One hand wandered over her body, tracing a path over her curves, down her leg then back up again to her shoulder and then tangling in her hair. There was no sense of urgency about him. No rush—though she could tell by the betraying tremble of his body how hard he fought for control. She released a sigh of bliss that he swallowed up as his mouth possessed hers.

  She wanted him. Not just wanted, but had to have. She wanted everything. His body. His touch. His tenderness. His love.

  He shifted and his cock rested across her pelvis, hot and pulsing, so rigid and yet satiny smooth. But he made no move to end things that quickly. He pushed himself up and over her once more and dipped his head to nuzzle at her neck. He teased the sensitive flesh below her ear and nibbled a path to her shoulder, spreading a thousand chill bumps in his wake.

  Soft, open-mouthed kisses caressed her flesh, ever closer to her breasts. She held her breath, waiting for his mouth to close around her nipple, but he continued to tease and lavish his attention on the plump swell.

  She groaned in equal parts pleasure and frustration.

  Then he dragged his tongue across the aureole and finally over her aching nipple. It puckered and thrust upward, so tight it was painful. He traced a damp circle around the bud before finally returning to it. His lips closed over the point and he sucked, keeping it between his teeth.

  She arched off the bed, grasping wildly at his shoulders, something to hold on to, something for her fingers to dig into as she gasped her pleasure into the silence. He smiled against her breast and then carefully pulled away and fixed his gaze to hers.

  “I’m not so good at pretty words,” he admitted in a somewhat self-conscious voice. “I feel like I should be composing poetry
or saying all the right things. You’re so beautiful and the fact that you’re giving yourself to me ... I don’t have the words.”

  She melted all the more under his steady gaze. She let all her love for him bleed into her smile as she raised her hand to stroke over his cheek. “The way you look at me, the way you touch me, tells me far more than words ever could.”

  He kissed her again, more fiercely than before. Breathless. Until she fidgeted with the restless, achy need that bloomed inside her. She wanted more. So much more.

  He slid down her body, his mouth brushing over her breasts and then her belly. He paused at the juncture of her legs and gently kissed the area right above the patch of hair at her groin.

  She shuddered, sighed and then arched upward, parting her legs in unconscious invitation. He repositioned himself so that he was between her sprawled legs, and again she held her breath as she watched his dark head lower until she could feel his soft exhale over her clit.

  And then he touched her with his tongue. Just a simple flick over her clit and her hips bolted upward. Her knees shook uncontrollably and her fingers curled into tight fists at her sides.

  With gentle fingers he parted her farther and swept his tongue over her quivering flesh to her opening. He circled it in a slow, teasing rhythm and then licked his way back up to her clit. He drew away for a moment and toyed with the swollen nub with his fingers, exerting just enough pressure to drive her insane. How could she withstand sweet and slow when he was killing her with just a touch?

  He pressed his mouth where his fingers had just played and kissed her softly, sucking until she twisted and arched spasmodically.

  “Garrett.”

  His name spilled from her lips, a soft plea, although she wasn’t sure what she begged for.

  “You okay?” he asked as he raised his head.

  “Oh yes,” she breathed.

  He returned his attention to his gentle lovemaking, only this time he ran a finger through her folds. And when his mouth returned to her clit, he eased his finger inside her.