Allister couldn’t blame her. Every man she’d ever trusted had disappointed her. He had disappointed her.
He paced her room. He’d never really paid attention before but the accommodations weren’t exactly posh. If anything, the room was typical dormitory style and nondescript. The living space provided evidence that a man had helped decorate the place.
Equipped with a pillow-top double bed, the room had a three-drawer dresser, nightstand, cheap desk, and dark chocolate-colored leather furniture. The sofa and love seat were comfortable, but not exactly extravagant. The furnishings belonged in a bachelor’s pad, not in a bedroom that should’ve been fit for a princess.
He went to the windows and reached behind the curtains to check the locks. He must’ve been out of his mind, crazy about a woman, to risk getting caught there. No one would reprimand him but it was the principal of the matter.
The founding fathers had sworn to abide by their own bylaws. They couldn’t expect others to respect them if they couldn’t follow their own rules.
Allister should’ve felt guilty, remorse on some level. Regulations were in place to ensure the safety of all women living there. And his closest friends—Ryan, Derek, and Bradley—had abided by them and had apparently trusted him to do the same or else they would’ve been in her room, too.
The door slammed, jerking him from his thoughts. He immediately wheeled around and was as tongue-tied as he’d ever been.
Ellie’s round face, with its ivory-snow complexion, showed no signs of age or maturity for that matter. How did someone survive what Ellie had experienced without showing the time lines of fret in their forehead or worry’s wrinkles around her eyes?
Dear God, he mused. It’s been two years, not a century.
His gaze traveled down her face and body, stopping at her neck where the evident bruising showed a madman’s marks. Denny had choked her?
Fucking bastard.
Allister avoided the high swell of her breasts, noticing instead how the towel met from one end to the other, completely wrapping around her like a cocoon. He was afraid to ask, afraid to offend her by mentioning the obvious.
Other than her breasts, she was indeed thin. Denny had either kept her imprisoned or in her limited freedoms, she’d been unable to eat a healthy diet due to wrecked nerves.
His eyes burned from his anger, from his disappointment in himself. He should’ve saved her from all this. He could’ve saved her!
They stared at one another for a short time before he realized they hadn’t spoken at all. “Hello, Ellie.”
“Why am I not surprised to find you here?”
“Aren’t you glad to see me?” He prayed for strength then and he wasn’t exactly a prayer-saying kind of man. All things considered, he needed someone on his side. If things didn’t go according to the way he’d sort of played this out in his mind, he wasn’t sure how he’d respond. He knew from experience, facing life without Ellie had presented its challenges. Worse, life without Ellie offered few satisfying rewards.
“You were behind the glass when your brother ‘processed’ me.”
“Yes.”
“Then you should know why I’m not exactly glad to see you.”
“Yeah, I figured as much. You tried to cover it up at first but failed miserably.”
“Doesn’t the truth set a person free?”
“You tell me.” She should know all about the truth by now. She’d heard enough lies. If Denny was talking, he was lying. He’d been that way for as long as Allister could remember.
“You stand there acting like I owe you something, like you have a right to be here.”
“I do.”
“You don’t, Allister.” Conviction existed in her voice. Strength lingered in every syllable. Had she been pissed off at him this whole time? If so, why hadn’t she looked for him?
Another thought entered his mind—she hadn’t known where to find him.
“You blame me. I get that.”
“I blame you more than I blame myself,” she said, returning to the bathroom and emerging a minute later wearing a white terrycloth robe.
To devil her, he should’ve told her, she looked sexier in the robe, but he had a feeling if he bit his tongue, he might fare a little better.
She went to her luggage and retrieved a few hair products from the outer pocket and tossed them to the bed. Once she flipped her hair over and ran the comb through her hair, Allister nearly came in his jeans. The robe not only accentuated her full natural rack, but it seemingly pushed her cleavage high enough for show.
Ellie faced the wall, but with the view in the mirror, she might as well have been standing right in front of him. Before he could stop himself, his arms were around her. He rested his chin on her shoulder.
“Let me go!” She tried to wiggle free, but he refused to release her. Immediately, she wept. Her cries were heartbreaking.
“I won’t let go, Ellie. Not this time. I can’t. We’ve been there before.” He sat on the bed and cradled her in his arms, devouring her a thousand ways in his mind while only offering her comfort in reality. “Don’t fight me, Ellie. Please. Not now. Not after what you’ve been through and what I’ve feared in my mind.”
Willing his tears away, he held her only tighter, breathing out roughly against her nape. “I can’t lose you again. I won’t. You’ve been a huge part of my life just as I’ve been a part of yours.”
As if he’d spoken the magic words, she finally relaxed against his chest. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she stared at the image of them in the mirror as if it brought her enormous relief and comfort.
In that moment, he remembered the heartache, the true pain he’d known when he’d heard the news about Ellie and Denny. She was marrying another man, a man who had always been the one to call her his own.
“You’re mine, Ellie. I waited. I was the better man.” His voice caught in his chest and he nuzzled her hair, weaving the tip of his nose through those strawberry-fragranced strands. “But I’m not the better man anymore. I want you and I refuse to play fair this time.”
“Why would you want me now?” She looked up at him and those big brown eyes melted his heart and scorched his soul. “After everything I’ve done, after everything I’ve been, why would you want me?”
“What have you done that’s so bad, Ellie?” Did he care? No. Outside of the important obvious—she was in his arms—he didn’t care about much else except keeping her safe, keeping her within touching distance.
She dragged her fingertips down his cheek and studied his lips as if she’d soon claim them with her kiss. Instead, she slowly caressed his bottom lip, following the shape with her thumb. “I saw his true colors before I married him.” She seemed distant as she admitted as much. “He turned on me after he found out I’d been with you, Ryan, Derek, and Bradley, but he knew where my heart was on the day I married him and for a split second”—she paused before she finished—“I saw the monster. I saw who he really was, Allister. And I still married him.”
Allister wanted to ask her why she’d gone through with the marriage. Instead, he locked his arms around her and kept her close. They had all the time in the world to revisit the past if the past was important to her, but as far as Allister was concerned, she’d already done that with Draegan.
Allister wanted to live in the present. He was interested in the future and coveting every moment of the here and now.
He was what she needed. And Allister needed Ellie just as much. Maybe even more.
* * * *
It was almost seven-thirty in the morning when Ellie finally slipped away from Allister’s arms. She tiptoed to her suitcase, pulled free a pair of pajama pants and matching tank top, and turned around with full intentions of going back to bed.
Instead, she found the hungry and raw male she’d always seen in Allister McCall. His desire-ridden eyes were now encased by shadows, dark circles he hadn’t possessed two years prior.
He still watched her the way he had when
they were in high school, with that brooding look she’d later come to recognize as male heat, a man’s lust.
Given the rise in his jeans, the way he curved his arm around his head and studied her with such devout interest, he had undoubtedly seen her dress. She’d awakened him. He’d apparently watched her in the mirror or stared at her ass as she bent over and stuck one foot in her pajamas and then the other.
She hadn’t bothered with modesty. “I thought you were asleep.”
“And imagine what I might have missed if I had been.” He moistened his lips and crooked his finger back and forth. “Come back to bed. It’s still early.”
“Don’t you have somewhere you need to be?”
“Yeah. With you.”
“And how much does that pay?” She forced a smile.
“You might be surprised,” he rasped, pulling her to bed even as she leaned back and pretended to resist him.
He rolled to his side, supported himself on his elbow, and lifted her shirt right above her bellybutton. As if he were counting the stitches, his lips twitched and he brought her closer, kissing her stomach in tiny circles before he looked up at her and said, “I’ll have the doc write you a prescription if you’re in pain. Are you?”
“No,” she replied, resting her hand on top of his head. “The bullet only grazed the skin. I’m lucky he was drunk. He fired off a few shots but only one nicked me. The only reason I ended up with sutures is because your brother insisted.”
“Harley?”
She snickered. “The worrywart of the family?”
“Yeah. That’s him.”
She laughed. “He said if I had bled out, you’d have the doc’s head, so then the doctor pumped me full of pain medicine, stitched me up, and sent me on my way.”
“Guess that’s why you passed out on me last night.” He traced the area surrounding the four stitches and hesitated. Perhaps he was awaiting an apology.
“Is that what happened?” Her heart skipped a beat as she watched the man she adored, the man who had somehow stole away with her heart so many years ago. “Did I miss anything?”
“I’ll never tell.” Dimples framed his delectable mouth.
She scraped his scalp with her fingernails, willing him to feel her need, the urgency in a firmer caress. Her touch was his green light and she’d suspected as much.
He ran the tip of his tongue along the waistline of her pajama pants, never dipping too low, never staying in one place. His wet tongue slid right to left, slowly and surely, snaking right under her garment.
Her breath caught as she observed him. What had they missed? How much time had they wasted? What had he experienced in life without her? Had he been with one woman and then another? Had he fallen in love and if so, how had they parted? Or had they parted?
Her hand stilled and she looked down at him with pure understanding. She’d loved him and lost him. She’d adored him and yet she’d let him go.
She’d pleased Denny’s parents and more importantly, she’d gained the nod of approval from her own. Now they weren’t even around so she could tell them what they’d cost her. Pleasing her father and mother had come at a price no woman should ever have to pay.
Now she couldn’t even remember why she’d justified what she’d done. Back then, her reasons for marrying Denny seemed quite simple and yet now, the idea of her ex-husband represented life complications. Two years ago, her thought process had placed her in front of one hurdle and then another.
More than anything, she’d been afraid. She’d been running scared for far too long. She’d feared disappointing her father, infuriating her mother, but more than anything else, she had feared if she’d given herself to Allister and then to his friends as well, a part of herself would forever remain out of her reach.
If she’d given her heart to them, they would’ve owned her. Allister in particular would have owned the power to destroy her.
Allister, Ryan, Derek, and Bradley were four of the best men she knew all rolled up into one when they loved her together. The trouble with that was the unusual part of their relationship.
She knew how to love them together. She didn’t know how to love them one on one.
“Allister, we need to talk.”
“We don’t need to talk right now,” he whispered, cradling her hips and nuzzling her hipbone. His nose seemingly followed the tiny pastel lines in her pajamas before he stalled at the juncture between her thighs.
“Allister, what happened before?” Her lips twitched. Her pulse raced. She was five seconds from spewing a lie, but she still said, “What happened between us, between me and you, Ryan, Derek, and Bradley? It can’t happen again. It won’t happen again.”
Instead of firing back a rebuttal, Allister stood and tilted her chin to his. He gave her a feather-light kiss before he rasped, “Oh you’re right about that, Ellie. The past won’t repeat itself. Not this time. Not ever.”
He marched to the bathroom and slammed the door. A few minutes later she heard him brushing his teeth, apparently helping himself to one of the disposable toothbrushes in the medicine cabinet.
When Allister reentered her room, she nervously awaited him to join her by the bed. She wasn’t sure if she’d moved a muscle since he’d left. He was somewhat different than she remembered, a harder man maybe, a more determined man for sure.
His arms were powerful, muscular, and ripped. He seemed taller, larger, and much more confident in his speech and his actions. He still possessed those playboy features with chiseled cheeks, thin lips, a slender nose, and boxed jaw, but his demeanor made the difference between the boy she remembered and the man he’d become.
Like most women, Ellie noticed a guy’s backside, and Allister’s firm ass had always looked good in any pair of jeans, but more than his physical features, he had been charming, friendly, and trustworthy. He had been her friend, someone she could count on.
She often wondered if their sexual connection had screwed up their chance for a solid relationship. Had they taken their friendship to the next level too soon, before either of them had contemplated what kind of repercussions they might face?
“Allister, I’m serious.”
“You think I’m not?” He gripped her hips with a firmer hold. “Ask Bradley what he thinks. While you’re at it, talk to Ryan and Derek, too. You’re where you belong, Ellie. You belong in Trouble. You belong with us.
“As far as we’re concerned? You took the long way home but you’re here now and that’s what matters.”
“But I don’t know if I’ll stay.”
“You’ll stay. You’ll stay because you’ll never have a good enough reason to walk away.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Get some rest.”
She felt abandoned as soon as he turned to go. Her heart hammered against her chest and her palms went clammy. With each step he made, she felt the distance he put between them.
He made it to the other side of the room when she said, “That’s why Denny always won.”
“What’s that?” Allister came to an abrupt stop and she sensed his heated gaze working its way over her back and hips, settling on her ass. “What are you talking about, Ellie?” The tight edge in his voice proved she had said enough to demolish his well-guarded control.
She kept her back to him. “You always wanted to be kind, gentle, and loving. You were my trusted confidant, my best friend. I think back to when we were kids and I can’t think of anyone who was a better friend to me than you.” She finally turned and walked toward him, but left the remaining steps between them for a purpose. If he wanted her, he’d meet her halfway. “I said, ‘That’s why Denny always won’ and I didn’t stutter.” She lifted her chin and looked him square in the eye. “If you want me, come and get me, Allister. If you want to win my heart, take my body. You can’t have one without the other. And you can’t be easy and gentle with somebody who only wants to be wild and free.
“You take me, Allister, but don’t treat me like a fine china doll. Don’t kiss me like you
’ll bruise me or love me like I’ll break. I’m a woman with needs, Allister, and right now I need you.”
Her words all but probed a man into a mission. His stormy eyes glittered with lust and love, maybe even appreciation. After all this time, maybe he had needed her to open the first door. She’d certainly slammed it in his face once before.
She’d known, but she’d realized too late, what marrying Denny had cost him. She’d heard the stories about his drinking, his depression, and while she didn’t see a depressed man now, she definitely saw a changed person, a man who had loved and lost and had found the necessary survival skills to make it from one day to the next.
What she’d witnessed in Allister McCall was nothing more than a defense mechanism. He wanted to love her but he would not risk another broken heart.
“I don’t want easy either, Ellie.” He went to her then without slowing his stride. He cupped her face with calloused hands and lowered his mouth to hers. Stealing away with one kiss and then another, he whispered against her lips. “I’ve always wanted you, Ellie.”
“Then show me.” A shattering cry hung in her lungs as he pulled her against him. “Don’t leave me, Allister. Stay right here and love me the way I needed you to love me so many years ago.”
Chapter Four
When Allister looked at Ellie, he didn’t see her as a victim. He saw her as a seductress, the vixen who had crooked her little finger back and forth and dared him with, “Show me what cha got, baby.”
He’d shown her all right, but if he’d been a smarter boy way back then, he would’ve taken their first kiss and made it count. She would’ve given away the first of many kisses only to him and he would’ve been her first love, her greatest and her only.
Instead, he only had bragging rights to the kiss, but that kiss had seared his brain, scorched his soul. Her lips had painted a reminder in his mind’s eye and he still recalled that hot summer night when he’d taken her behind her daddy’s barn and had nearly come in his pants when they’d kicked things up a notch, grinding and groping.
Here Comes Trouble [Trouble, Tennessee Prequel] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 4
