Loving Sarah (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Julie Shelton

  She gasped, crying out at the carnal invasion. God, it feels so good! So good. “Jesse, please,” she moaned helplessly, her composure unraveling so fast she was barely hanging on by a thread.

  He fucked her with his fingers, circling the calloused pad of his thumb around her clit, that tiny little bundle of nerve endings that was the key to all her pleasure. His touch sparked through her like a live wire, taking her apart cell by cell.

  Helpless against the onslaught of sensations pounding against her, she shoved her hips back against his groin. Pleasure sizzled through her, dizzying in its intensity. She gulped, her face red and hot and dripping with sweat, twisting with the lust that thundered through her with every pounding beat of her heart. Needs she couldn’t even name were ripping her apart, destroying her soul. “Jesse!” She bucked beneath him, pleasure whipping through her body as his fingers continued to circle and thrust, circle and thrust. Her body tensed, muscles tightening as a massive orgasm began to spiral deep within her. “Oh, God, Jesse, I’m going to come!” Meant to be a stern admonishment, it came out as little more than a squeal.

  “That’s it, baby,” he growled, his fingers plunging into her once again, rubbing her clit with enough pressure to send her soaring to the stratosphere. “Come for me, love, come for me.”

  Lightning raged around her, over her, through her as her pussy detonated, her entire body convulsing around his fingers. The breath exploded from her lungs in a scream as her body shattered with white-hot bursts of a pleasure so excruciating it had her spasming and jerking uncontrollably against his hand. She screamed again and again until her lungs emptied, leaving her incapable of nothing more than a series of tiny, gasping whimpers.

  Keeping his fingers in place, drawing out her pleasure in a succession of never-ending aftershocks, Jesse held her until she finally collapsed beneath him, her body going limp and still against the hood of the car. Eventually her breathing quieted, becoming slow and even.

  He placed his lips against her ear, closing the liquid heat of his mouth around the succulent flesh of her earlobe, making her shudder with pleasure. “How can you say there’s nothin’ between us?”

  “Because there isn’t anything between us,” she said through gritted teeth, torn between wanting him to let her up and wanting him to fuck her to another mind-blowing orgasm. Whipping her anger, she held herself stiffly, continuing in a low voice that throbbed with rage. “Okay, so you can get me off. BFD. That doesn’t give you any rights over me. You betrayed me, Jesse. You left me without a word—not one single word. Because you were too principled to fuck me, you say? Yeah, well, you weren’t too principled to take Father’s twenty-five thousand, were you? Even if I forgave you for everything else, I could never forgive you for that! You took money to stay away from me!”

  Jesse went completely still. Withdrawing his fingers from her wet heat, he straightened abruptly, pulling her up to stand in front of him.

  Struggling to shore up her control, she tugged furiously at the hem of her skirt, yanking it down even as her pussy clenched against the emptiness left behind by the sudden departure of his fingers. But it wasn’t until he raised his hands to her shoulders and turned her around to face him that she realized just how dangerous he had become.

  Chapter Three

  “What did you just say?”

  She’d never seen anyone look so cold, so dead, so stripped of any kind of warmth or emotion. She was looking, she knew, into the face of a stone-cold killer. Someone who would think no more of snuffing out a life than he would of putting on his socks. Yes, Jesse Colter was a very dangerous man. Tiny frissons of fear sent goose bumps racing up and down her spine. In spite of the sun’s heat, she began to shiver. “I—”

  “What was that about twenty-five thousand dollars?” he asked, his quiet voice filled with menace. “Christ, Sarah, what’re you tellin’ me?”

  “He paid you!” she cried. “I saw the carbon copy of the check! He showed it to me the morning after—after Ryder—” She cleared her throat. “It was made out to you for the sum of twenty-five thousand dollars!”

  Jesus Fuckin’ H. Christ! Jesse couldn’t move. His jaw clenched and unclenched with the effort it was taking to control the violence raging through him. Violence directed, not at Sarah, but at Judge Arthur Chamberlain Marshall. Closing his eyes briefly, he drew in a deep cleansing breath, letting it fill his cheeks before blowing it back out through pursed lips. With supreme effort, he forced his muscles to relax. Sliding his hands down her arms, from her shoulders to her wrists, he raised her hands one by one to his lips, kissing her knuckles with a gentleness that tore at her soul.

  She risked a glance up at him through the thickness of her long, black lashes. What she saw gripped her heart and sent her blood racing through her veins. His expression had softened and he was once again the compelling, virile, arrogant man she loved more than she’d ever loved anyone in her entire life. How could she steel herself against him, when all she wanted to do was give herself to him, wholly and completely, damn the consequences?

  By moving to Boston, that’s how.

  “Sarah.”

  When she stubbornly didn’t respond, he crooked his finger beneath her chin and lifted her head. It was still damp and fragrant from her pussy.

  Her gaze ripped to his. His expression was tender, almost loving, stopping her heart and squeezing her lungs. She stared at him, her breathing ragged. She was trapped in his gaze, unable to move or look away. Her heart was hammering so hard she was afraid it would burst through her chest. Surely he could hear it pounding like one of those enormous Japanese drums. Surely he could see it slamming against the pulse point at the base of her throat.

  “Sarah,” he repeated. Bending his head, he kissed first one cheek, then the other. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she had a fever, her skin was so hot. “Have I ever lied to you, baby?” he asked softly. “In all the time you’ve known me, have I ever lied to you?”

  When she opened her mouth to speak, he put his fingers over her lips. The fingers that were still damp with her pussy juice. Her own pungent scent invaded her nostrils. Drawing in a deep, shaky breath, she shook her head slowly. He had done some pretty horrible things to her. But lying? “No,” she admitted finally, reluctantly.

  He drew the backs of his fingers across the silken skin of her cheeks, threading them through the strands of her hair to shape the back of her head. Swamped by his nearness, she closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. Her head whirled, dizzy with the need racing through her.

  He inhaled deeply, holding her scent in his lungs as if it possessed some kind of magical substance that had the power to heal his soul. He let it wrap around him like an embrace. “Your father lied to you, Sarah—no fuckin’ surprise there. I took no money from him.”

  “But,” she sounded bewildered, “he told me everything—how you threatened him. How you told him you—you’d make me your—your whore,” she stumbled over the word. “How you said you were going to ruin me so no other man would ever w-want me.”

  Holy Mary, Mother of God!

  His hands clenched at his sides, muscles leaping in his jaw, as he struggled to get himself under control. “I never saw your father again after I was hauled off to jail. He never wrote me a fuckin’ check. If he had, I would’ve ripped it up and thrown it in his face.”

  “But I saw—”

  “No, no, no.” His expression gentled. He took each of her hands in one of his and she didn’t pull away. She couldn’t. “It was a fake, baby. He probably just wrote out a check, then ripped it up so he could show you the carbon copy. You saw what he wanted you to see, sugar, nothin’ more, I swear. I never took money from your father.” His lips compressed briefly, and for several seconds he appeared to be lost in thought. Then he let out a sigh, giving her hands a tiny shake.

  “While I was in jail that afternoon,” he said quietly, watching his right thumb as it gently stroked the knuckles of her left hand, “waitin’ to be released, I
did a lot of thinkin’. And I made some very difficult decisions, the most difficult bein’…to leave Marshall’s Creek.” He ignored the tiny sound she made. “You were the most precious thing in my life, Sarah. And I had to do whatever it took to keep myself from corruptin’ you. So, when they released me, I went home to pack my things. I didn’t know where I was goin’, I just knew I had to leave. When I got to my apartment, three men attacked me. They’d been sent by your father to beat me up, and while they were doing it, I knew I now had two reasons for leaving Marshall’s Creek. To keep myself from corruptin’ you. And to keep your father from destroying both of us.”

  “Oh, God, Jesse, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” Silent tears slid down Sarah’s cheeks, her eyes flickering with anguish as she was finally confronted with the full extent of her father’s cynical betrayal. “Why didn’t you come get me? I would have gone with you. I loved you—”

  His eyes darkened. His lips twisted. “Sarah, you have to understand. When I left here I was nothin’, a nobody. I had no direction, no ambition, no idea where my life was headed. My soul was eaten away with a hatred as corrosive as acid.” He shook his head. “I had nothin’ to offer you, baby. I was a man without hope. A man with no future. And yet, in spite of all that, I wanted you so badly I would have taken you anyway. I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself.”

  “But you did stop yourself,” she pointed out remorselessly. “You left.”

  “And you should be thankin’ me for that, Sarah.” Gently lifting his hands to cradle her face, he held her still, forcing her gaze up to his. “If I’d stayed, I would have ruined you. I came so close that last day—” He gave an impatient shake of his head. “You were everythin’ that was good. Everythin’ that was pure. And I left so I couldn’t destroy you.”

  Tears stung her eyes, threatening to spill over at the anguish written on his face, roughening his voice. At the anguish ripping apart her own heart. “You destroyed me anyway,” she accused bitterly, her throat raw with the sorrow that was threatening to overwhelm her. “By leaving.”

  Her despair ripped his heart to shreds. “I’m sorry, Sarah. Sorrier than I’ve ever been about anythin’ in my entire life.” He shook his head. “I thought, stupidly as it turns out, that you were young enough to get over me. I thought that if I weren’t around, you’d forget about me and meet someone else. Someone who could make you happy. I prayed for that with all my heart, to a God I don’t even believe in, because if there’s one thing I want in this world, it’s for you to be happy. I can’t undo what’s already done. I can’t go back and change any of it.

  “But if the past eight years have taught me anythin’, it’s this.” His voice stroked over her nerve endings like liquid fire. “We belong together, Sarah. You’re mine. You’ve been mine since I rescued you from fallin’ outta that tree. I know it and you know it.”

  “Jesse…” His name spilled haltingly from her lips, almost like a prayer. Her heart sped up, beating so fast she was afraid it would strangle her. Her breasts rose and fell as she fought for oxygen. She was caught up in a maelstrom of emotions, a whirlwind of chaotic feelings that rocked her to her core. Her skin felt hot and tight, as if it had shrunk and was now several sizes too small. She closed her eyes, arching helplessly against him as he threw his arms around her and pulled her close.

  “I’ve dreamed about you, Sarah. Nearly every night for eight fuckin’ years. Dreamed about touchin’ you. Of puttin’ my mouth on you and pleasurin’ you until you came all over my tongue, just like you did that last day.” His cock was iron hard, the blood pounding in its tip. He had never been so aroused in his entire life. If he didn’t find release soon, he was going to explode.

  He licked her ear and she let out a yelp of pleasure. “I’ve dreamed of slidin’ my cock inside your tight little cunt and fuckin’ you hard and fast. Then slow and sweet. Then in your mouth and your delectable little ass.”

  She whimpered as lust surged through her, sending more hot cream gushing from her womb. God, the words he uses! Coarse. Vulgar. Yet, somehow, coming from his mouth, in that midnight-velvet voice of his that wrapped around her soul, they were transformed from their customary ugliness into something…poetic. Lyrical. Almost like…music. No one had ever talked to her like this! How could mere words be such a huge turn-on? And the images they evoked…Holy Moley! She held her breath, unable to think as need raged through her like a firestorm, all roaring thunder and slashing lightning, burning her resistance to ash.

  And yet…somehow, somewhere, dredging it up from the depths of her soul, she managed to find the will to resist. “No!” She jerked in his arms even as fiery chills raced up and down her spine. Tears stung her eyes, but she bit her lip hard, refusing to let them fall, trapping them deep within her heart.

  She could not allow him to do this to her. Not now. Not again. Not when she’d finally made the decision to break free of the hold he’d had on her soul for the past eight years. Gathering all her courage, she pushed against him. “No, Jesse, stop. You just want sex, that‘s all.”

  “Wrong, baby. I want way more than just sex.”

  “Well, I’m sure there are plenty of women out there who’d be only too happy to oblige. I don’t want this. I don’t want you.”

  Startled, he released her and she stepped back away from him, out of reach of the energy that crackled around him like an electrical field. Curving her arms around her abdomen, she hugged herself tight, trying to give herself what meager comfort she could.

  He stared at her, anguish and confusion twisting his handsome features as pain lanced through him. Christ, he’d dreamed of her for so long! For eight fuckin’ years he’d been frozen and now that his body was coming to slow, agonizing life, she was turning him away! Feeling her beginning to slip away from him, he scrubbed the palm of his hand down his face. God, this couldn’t be happening. The possibility of a future without her yawned before him, bleak and empty, leaving a gaping hole in his soul. The vision filled him with panic at the thought of what he would lose if he lost her. Everything. Simply everything. Shit! His nerves skittered as panic raced through him.

  “I know you want me, Sarah,” he said, his voice low and desperate. “I’ve never met a woman more responsive to my touch than you. You can’t deny it.”

  “No,” she agreed. “I can’t. But it’s not enough, Jesse. Wanting isn’t enough. Sex…isn’t enough.” She looked at him, her expression grim, unshed tears scalding her throat. “I need love.”

  She started to turn away from him, but his hand on her arm stopped her. “Don’t give up on me, Sarah,” he begged. “Give me a chance. Give us a chance. I’ve never loved anyone in my life. I don’t know how to love anyone. I don’t even know what love is, for chrissakes. But if I ever could love anyone, it would be you.”

  Fresh tears spilled from Sarah’s eyes. They rolled down her cheeks, dripping off her chin. She licked them off her lips, tasting their salt. It was probably the closest thing to a declaration of love she was ever likely to get from him. And it wasn’t enough. “I’m sorry, Jesse, I can’t give you what you want. Go back to all those other women you’ve been fucking. I’m sure they’ll be more than happy to accommodate you.”

  “There are no other women.” His voice was low, made harsh by the presence of some raw, painful emotion. “Haven’t been for over two years.”

  She gasped, unable to disguise her shock. “Why not?”

  He shrugged, a bleak look darkening his eyes. “They weren’t you,” he said simply.

  She stared at him for a long time, biting her lip, watching the pain and uncertainty swirling in his steady gaze. Pain she knew was reflected in her own gaze. She sighed. “Why did you come over here, Jesse?”

  “Huh?” He drew air into the bottom of his lungs and let it out slowly, his sluggish brain desperately trying to follow the shift in topic. “Oh. Right. Have you heard anythin’ from the Virginia Department of Corrections?”

  “About what?” She frowned.

&nb
sp; “Ryder Malone was released from Red Onion two days ago.”

  She gasped. Fear settled coldly in the pit of her stomach and spread to every part of her body like frost creeping over a pane of glass. Her eyes widened, and for one terrifying instant she was eighteen years old again, on her hands and knees in her father’s hallway, about to be brutally raped. “How’d he get out?” Her hand flew to her throat. “Oh, God, is he here in Marshall’s Creek? Have you seen him?”

  “No. I don’t know where he is, but I’ve got people out lookin’ for him. They’ll make sure he won’t come anywhere near you. In the meantime, I don’t want you takin’ any chances.” He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out one of his business cards. “The name and phone number on the back belong to a friend of mine—a fellow SEAL. He’s now a private security consultant—one of the best. He should be able to help you with a state-of-the-art, custom-designed alarm system.”

  “I already have a perfectly good alarm system,” Sarah pointed to the sign in the flower bed near the kitchen door, although she took the proffered card, being careful to avoid touching his fingers.

  “Yeah?” he asked, grimacing at the well-known logo on the blue and white sign. She’d probably gotten the ninety-nine-dollar installation special, too. “Is it on right now?”

  Embarrassment stained her face. “Well, no.”

  He bit back a curse. “Fat lot of good it’s gonna do you if you don’t turn the damned thing on.” Anger darkened his features. “Go in and turn it on.”

  “What? Now?”

  “Now. Go inside, lock the door behind you and turn on. The fuckin’. Alarm,” he repeated with sighing impatience.

  He watched as she walked to the door and went inside. “Fuckin’ cheap-ass system,” he grumbled beneath his breath as he disconnected the main wire, retrieved an electronic lock pick from his glove box and walked swiftly around to the front of the house. Shaking his head, he inserted the lock-pick into the front door lock, listening as the tumblers fell into place. Slipping noiselessly inside the grand foyer, he walked quietly down the dark hallway toward the kitchen.