by Pam Godwin
Pleasure shivered through her. He thrust his hand, his fingers dragging along her inner walls, his panting so incredibly erotic. Her hands ached to touch him. Her body burned to be stroked harder. When his fingers slid out, she held her breath, expecting his cock. Instead, a soaked fingertip pressed against the pucker of her ass. She looked over her shoulder but couldn’t see him through the dark.
“Van has taken you here?” His whisper was hoarse.
“Yeah.” She closed her eyes, knowing his jealousy would be rising to the surface and stirring his instinct to claim her.
“Are you healed?”
“Yes.” It had been a week since Traquero had hurt her. A couple times, during moments like this one, she’d watched Josh spread her cheeks and stare at her anus while fucking her. She knew what he wanted. She’d never willingly given her ass to anyone, but he wasn’t just anyone. “It’s yours.”
His breath stuttered, and his finger pushed past the ring of muscle, intensifying the throb in her pussy. He choked. “Holy hell, Liv. You’re so tight. And hot.” He moved his finger in and out, and his thigh trembled against hers. “I want this, badly.”
“Take it, Josh. Do you have lube?”
“No.” He half-groaned, half-laughed, circling his finger. His other hand held her waist in a death grip.
The sensations from his invasion vibrated across her skin, electrifying every cell in her body. “Use spit,” she panted.
The hand on her waist vanished. She heard him spit and pictured him stroking himself, lubricating his cock as he fingered her ass. Fuck, she was going to come quick. She dropped her head to the pillow.
His finger slipped away, and something much larger nudged her opening. She pushed against him. He swept a warm palm up and down her spine. His hand lingered on her tail bone, pressing down, and he worked his cock in slowly, cautiously, despite his quickening exhales.
They gasped in unison as his hips bumped her ass, his length buried fully inside her. He bent over her back and cupped her breasts. “Not gonna last long.”
“Me neither.” She rotated her hips. “Now move.”
He moved. Oh God, did he move. She gripped the edge of the mattress and smothered her yelps in the pillow. He pistoned his hips, filling her over and over with an overwhelming tempo of speed and power. The bed squeaked. She didn’t care. Her body was on fire, her desire for him tunneling through her and awakening all her pleasure points.
His tongue dragged up her spine, and his fingers slipped into her pussy. She exploded in a spasm of quivering limbs and stammering breaths, her inner walls convulsing around his fingers. His strokes slowed, his mouth open and panting against her shoulder. He came with his face buried in her neck and his arms locked around her, clutching her back to his chest.
She sighed, smiling, as he rolled them to their sides. “You just fucked my ass with your parents on the other side of the wall.”
“At least, they didn’t come in.” He pulled out, rubbed something soft and cottony between her legs and cleaned himself. “There’s no lock on the door.”
Her gaze flew to the vicinity of the door. Was he trying to get busted? “Did you just clean your dick with your t-shirt?”
“Yep.” He tossed it through the dark room, and it landed with a thud in the corner. “I’ll make sure it gets in the hamper tomorrow.”
“Let me guess. Your mom does your laundry?”
He curled against her back, enfolding her in his arms. “She’s been washing my cum filled t-shirts for years. Go to sleep.”
She lay awake with her cheeks stretched in a silly grin and a flutter in her chest. Sleepless minutes passed, and her thoughts drifted to Van. He’d been a bastard to her for seven years. If he hadn’t abducted her, Mom might’ve still been alive. But there would’ve been no Livana. She would’ve never met Josh.
For the first time since Van entered her life, she thought of him with a tiredness that was fulfilling rather than draining.
Josh’s breaths evened out. She carefully untangled his arms, kissed his temple, inhaling the scent of his skin, and crept back to the couch.
The next three days rolled into a repetitive cycle. She used the Carter’s phone every morning to inquire about a visitation with Livana. She helped Josh haul bales and clean farm equipment. In the evenings, they ran together, just the two of them, the dirt road beneath their sneakers, and acres of freedom.
And after his parents retired each night, he carried her to his bedroom and showed her how much he loved her. When he fell asleep, she crept back to the couch. But his irritation with the sleeping arrangements was mounting, if his narrow-eyed glower at his parents every morning was anything to go by.
When she approached him about his attitude toward his parents, he’d said, “They’re more concerned about what happened to the farm while I was gone than what happened to me during that time. You’d think they’d be more invested in what I need and less concerned about church gossip and farm chores.”
While his parents pretended his time in captivity never happened, the news stations begged for details. They called from all over the country, buzzing the phone so often the Carters turned off the ringer. A number of times, Josh had to run off reporters who were rude enough to show up at the house. He wanted to avoid the press for as long as possible, which meant he was also avoiding school, football, and church. All his attention was on the farm and catching up on the tasks his parents had fallen behind on.
On the third morning, her call to the Austin police department was answered with a message from Carolyn Eary. Mr. E’s wife agreed to meet with her. Josh drove her to Austin the next day in the family’s station wagon.
She sat beside Josh in a spartan holding room at the police station. Her palms sweat, and her mouth dried as Carolyn stared at her with pink-rimmed eyes. She swallowed, tongue-tangled, and searched for the appropriate thing to say to the woman raising her child. “Thank you for seeing me.”
Carolyn raised a trembling hand to her face, brushing away an invisible hair. “I’m trying to come to terms with this.” The woman gestured at her and Josh. “But my primary concern is for my daughter. She’s lost her father and—” She choked on a sob. “She’s all I have.”
A maternity test would prove Liv’s parentage. A court order might give her custody. What was best for Livana? She leaned forward, the long table separating them. “I’m not here to uproot Livana’s life. I just want to meet her and, with time, get to know her.” She closed her eyes, opened them. “I have so many questions.”
“You can ask me anything.” Carolyn smiled, though it faded quickly.
“How and when did she come to you?”
Carolyn rubbed her forearms, her blond eyebrows gathering over her blue eyes. “We adopted her. She was only a few days old.”
Had Van kept her during that time? Or had she gone to the hospital for care? She pressed a hand to her abdomen. She couldn’t ask those questions and reveal Van’s part in this.
Carolyn’s lips pinched in a line. “My husband claimed he had an estranged son who contacted him and asked him to raise his child. Said the mother didn’t want her.” She averted her eyes and took her time dragging them back to Liv. “My husband and I couldn’t have children, so of course I was ecstatic. He dealt with the paperwork.” Her cheeks flushed. “It all seems so very obvious now. I should’ve questioned more. He’d never mentioned having a son before Livana came to us, and now I know it’s because he never really had one.”
Josh grabbed her hand under the table, and she laced their fingers, squeezing. Did that mean Van had never met Livana or Carolyn? Was that Mr. E’s doing? Isolating his son from the only family he had? Remorse sat heavy in her stomach.
Carolyn leaned back in the chair, her eyes cold, flat. “It was all one big lie.”
Not exactly. Liv believed Van, but she wasn’t going to correct Carolyn.
“My husband never paid attention to Livana.” Carolyn’s firm eye contact held Liv immobile. “Please believe
me when I say I have loved her enough for the both of us. And she has never been mistreated.”
Warmth circulated through her body. Fuck, she’d needed to hear that. “Who named her?”
Carolyn tucked her hands behind her elbows. “He told me his son chose the name.” She shrugged stiffly. “I guess my husband named her after you.” She blinked away.
Van named her. She was sure of it. A bloom of warmth curled through her chest, and her lungs filled with a deep, content breath. “Can I see her? Is she here?” Hope bottled up inside of her, quickening her pulse.
“Yes, of course.” Carolyn rose and left the room.
She clutched her chest. “Oh my God, Josh. OhmyGodOhmyGod. Pinch me.” She swallowed rapidly, light-headed and giddy, gulping deep breaths. Her hands shook over the front of her cotton dress, straightening it. She combed fingers through her hair. Should she brush the strands over her scar?
He hooked an arm around her, touched his lips to her cheek, and chuckled softly. “Stop fidgeting. You’re breathtaking. Livana will adore you.”
She leaned her forehead against his. “Thank you. I’m so glad you’re here.”
The door opened, and she stopped breathing.
CHAPTER 45
Liv’s heartbeat boomed through her body. She leaned forward in the chair, her Hello strangled.
Huge brown eyes scanned the room and collided with hers. Livana blinked, tilted her head. A dimple appeared in her pink cheek and a beautiful, shy smile stretched across her face.
She’d waited six years for that moment, imagined it every day, and never expected one smile to connect her to life so completely. It was a floating sensation, as if all her past and future failures were lifted. Her soul had everything it needed right there in that room. She tightened her fingers around Josh’s hand.
Livana entered before Carolyn, her dark hair swishing around her shoulders in long waves. Ladybugs embroidered her t-shirt, and her tiny hand clutched a mini-tablet, which connected to the ear buds poking from her ears.
“Livana?” Carolyn closed the door and regarded Liv. “I’m sorry. She’s got this thing with music. Always singing.”
Josh’s thumb brushed over her fingers, and a sense of unity drifted through her, balancing her pulse into a slow, happy beat.
Livana approached, her mouth moving silently, her knees bouncing to some unknown melody. She paused a hug away, and her delicate chin raised. Her lips parted as she stared into Liv’s eyes.
Carolyn tugged an ear bud from Livana’s ear and sat two chairs away. “Livana, this is Liv and Josh.”
A tentative hand reached toward Liv’s face with starts and stops until tiny fingers brushed her scar. Too soon, the gentle touch fell away.
She couldn’t breathe, her throat too thick. She gathered her voice. “Have you seen a mark like this before?” She tapped her scar. Carolyn wouldn’t know why she was asking.
Livana shook her head. “Nah uh.”
It was a sad confirmation. Livana had never met her father. Liv hunched down to peer at her dainty features. “What are you listening to?”
Those brown eyes widened, fringed with Van’s thick lashes. “Katy Perry. She’s really pretty. Like you.”
Oh God, that sweet voice. A tingle burned her nose. “May I?” She gestured at the dangling ear bud.
Livana nodded enthusiastically and shifted to sit in her lap. Carolyn watched with tense shoulders, but a small smile touched her lips.
Liv’s pulse thrummed in her throat as she released Josh’s hand. She lifted the beautiful girl, hugging her close and adjusting the ear buds. One in her ear, the other in Livana’s. A tiny finger swiped through Katy Perry songs on the tablet and selected “Unconditionally.”
The tune clapped through the ear buds. When Livana’s vocals launched, strong and perfectly pitched, a shiver crept over Liv’s skin, raising the hairs on her nape. She sought Josh’s eyes and found him watching her, his arm propped on the table, a knuckle resting against his lips. Behind his hand, the corners of his mouth curved, his gaze warm with affection.
The chorus kicked in, and she joined Livana’s voice in a higher octave, their tones harmonizing as if they’d sung together for years. They watched each other, smiling, laughing when Liv stumbled over the words.
When the song finished, Livana flashed a toothy grin. “You sing good. Let’s do another one.” She swiped the screen on her tablet.
Carolyn pressed her fingers to her lips, her eyes watery. “Well.” She smoothed her skirt and gave a shaky smile. “That explains Livana’s beautiful voice.”
Liv felt taller, stronger. She’d passed on something of herself, something that was considered beautiful. And she’d done it without meeting her or touching her. Her heart froze then pounded with overwhelming wonderment.
A dozen Katy Perry songs later, Livana said goodbye with her arms wrapped around Liv’s neck.
“Would you like to see Liv and Josh again?” Carolyn asked.
Liv’s heartbeat thrummed heavily, sluggishly. Ripping Livana from the only mother she’d ever known would be so damned selfish. As badly as Liv wanted to demand custody, no one would benefit but herself.
A tingling sensation fluttered in her belly. She wasn’t a self-serving monster. Not anymore.
Livana grinned, looking up at Carolyn with love and trust. “I’ll bring the music.”
Carolyn clasped her hand. “I bet they’ll come see you whenever you want.”
“Thank you,” Liv mouthed to Carolyn.
Two hours later—and after a stop behind a deserted building where she thanked Josh passionately for coming with her—they walked into his parents’ house. Actually, she danced. She wiggled her hips, bumping into his as he walked. Her heartbeat drummed in her chest. A light-hearted feeling dispersed through her body, loosening her muscles. She was high on laughter, and his beautiful smile and playful shoves spurred her elation as she spun around him, rejuvenated by the best day of her life.
As they flitted around one another through the sitting room, his hands tackled her ribs, wrenching a laughing scream from her lungs. She pivoted away from him and collided with the hard, narrowed stare of Mr. Carter.
He stood in the kitchen doorway, his distaste evident in the pressed line of his lips. “This was in the mailbox.” He handed her a confidential envelope, addressed to Liv Reed in typed font. No postage stamp. No return address. Her stomach tumbled.
Josh led her to his room and closed the door. His hard jawline sawed side-to-side. “I don’t think I can handle any more surprises.” He paced the small room, pivoting between the spartan furnishings. A twin bed with a handmade quilt. A dresser with a bottle of aftershave. Shelves lined the walls displaying years of football trophies. He stopped in front of her, crossed his arms, and waited.
Adrenaline flared through her veins, firing her brain to act. She sat on the bed, tore the seal, and slid out a single letter. The name, address, and phone number of an international bank in the Cayman Islands printed across the top. The body of the letter included three lines.
Liv Reed
Account number 00145481720
Balance $6,000,000
CHAPTER 46
A flush of dizziness swam through Liv’s head.
The mattress shifted. Josh sat beside her, his hand curling around her wrist, angling the paper. “Am I reading this right?”
“Hand me the phone.” Her voice trembled.
She called the toll-free number, confirmed the account, and disconnected.
He rose from the bed and resumed pacing. “Why would Mr. E put his money in your name?”
She stared at the letter, the words blurry. He’d put the house and everything else in her fake name. He and Van had been ghosts in the slave business. She was the face and the name connected to the entire operation. “So I could take the fall?” Her chest pinched. “But someone personally delivered this to your parents’ mailbox.”
His mouth slackened, voicing her assumption. “Van.”
He stared down at her, his fists on his hips. “Why the hell not?”
“Eight lives, including yours—” she ground her teeth, her voice rising “—were torn apart for this money.”
He crouched between her legs, tugged the letter from her fist, and set it on the bed. “Nine people, Liv. You’re one of us. And you know our lives are better for it.” He placed his palm beneath her ear, his thumb caressing her cheek. “My life is so much more damned meaningful. Because of you.”
Her head ached and her chest squeezed. She rubbed the middle of her forehead. What were her options? She couldn’t send the money back. She could donate it to charity. Or… “I can divide it among the eight of you.”
He searched her eyes, his hand lowering to tap his fingers on her thigh. “You’ll divide it between the nine of us, and I’ll give my portion to my parents.”
She smoothed a wayward lock of hair from his forehead, mesmerized by the iridescent glow of his eyes. He wouldn’t need his own money if she kept a portion of the account. Neither of them knew what the future held for them, but one thing was certain. They would be together. She wrinkled her nose to thwart the sudden burn of emotion. She had a future to look forward to. With him.
“Joshua?” Emily’s voice muffled through the walls. The door opened, and her gray eyes darted between them. “Son, I’m not comfortable with the door shut when there’s a girl in your room.”
Liv bit her lip. Good God, they treated him like a child.
He flattened his hands on her thighs and drew a deep breath. “Sorry to hear that, Mom. And the girl has a name.”
