Whatever this was, it had happened long ago, but the pain still lingered.
It was difficult, being so close to him. Each time she wound the gauze around him she had to lean close, almost touching. It wasn’t a discomfort she was used to, that prickly sizzle of raw emotion. This was a different kind of sizzle. A craving.
He smelled wonderful, of aftershave and sweat. She wanted to coil herself around him and hold on. But she couldn’t. First of all, she needed to finish bandaging him up.
Second of all, she could sense his embarrassment. He was uneasy, being so exposed. As she worked, she sent him reassuring waves and felt his tension relax.
She turned her attention to his arm, quickly cleaning and wrapping that gash. The scars covered his shoulders and traced down to his wrist on one arm and to the elbow on the other. Odd for a burn. As though the fire had been dribbled on him.
“Does it still hurt?” she asked, before she could stop herself.
He froze and glanced away. “Not much.”
“Not much?”
His lips tweaked. “Funny thing about burns. If they go deep enough, the nerves get fried too.”
“Hmm.” What could one say to that? “Lucky you.”
He caught her sarcasm and snorted a laugh. Then sobered. “I was lucky. They say if the flames had reached my hands or my face, I would probably have died.” He held up a broad palm. “More nerves here than on ninety percent of your body.” He shrugged. “Or something like that.”
“I didn’t know that.” She quirked a grin. She was done and he wasn’t rushing to cover up. That was something. It spoke to his comfort with her, perhaps. She hoped.
“You learn a lot of handy medical tidbits when you spend a chunk of your life as a kid in a burn ward.”
“How old were you?” She asked, though she already knew. Young. Too young to suffer through such an experience. And the physical scarring was only the tip of the iceberg.
“Five.”
She touched his hand. Not a light touch, but a full, warm clasp. “I am so sorry, Parker.”
He shrugged. One shoulder. “Thanks. It’s over.”
But it wasn’t.
It wasn’t.
He still carried wounds—and not just those on his skin.
It was as though he stood on a desolate hill, stalwart and brave and absolutely alone. His isolation sheathed him. Caged him.
All of a sudden, she was suffused by the overpowering urge to ease his spirit, to relieve his solitude—if only for a moment. To show him the world was not a bleak wasteland. That he didn’t have to travel it alone.
She knew what he wanted. Knew what he needed. She’d tasted his simmering desire. Felt it thrumming on the air.
And she wanted it too.
For the first time in her life, she wanted it too. She ached to taste him.
Slowly, she eased her hand up his thighs, over his hips. And she unsnapped his jeans.
Parker froze. He stared at Kaitlin, this beautiful, incredibly alluring woman as she unfastened his jeans. Unfastened his jeans. Lust blazed through him. His pulse pounded painfully. His cock went on point.
Shit.
It had been tormenting, having her lean in, again and again, so close—her scent, her warmth surrounding him like a cloud as she wrapped his injury. He’d fisted the covers to keep from grabbing her and yanking her against him.
And now…this?
He should stop her. That’s what he should do. Grab her wrists and still her movements.
But he couldn’t.
It had been so long…and damn it, he wanted her.
She glanced up at him, a question in her eyes.
He opened his lips to tell her no, but that word didn’t come out. “Kaitlin,” he huffed, on a breath.
She took this as assent and stroked his hard length through the cotton. A teasing trail. A shudder rocked him. God, it felt so good. A groan escaped from his throat. She rolled down his briefs. His cock bounded out and he frowned. She was far too delicate for such a rampant—
“Oh my,” she said. And she took him in her hands.
His vision blurred as she wrapped him in a warm fist and stroked. Delight danced up his spine.
“Kaitlin…”
She dipped her head and her tongue peeped out. He held his breath as she neared. And ah! Bliss as a velvet softness stroked the tip of his cock, licking at the eye, lapping up a bead of cum.
She swirled it around the head and more quakes claimed him. A snarl began at the base of his balls. Hell, he wasn’t going to last. He clenched his ass to hold back. Because, God, he wanted to last. He wanted this to last.
She murmured something—he had no clue what it was because his ears were filled with the sound of his scudding heartbeat—but the vibration slid through him like a knife of pleasure.
Her lips parted and she drew him in, sucking at the tip as she stroked him gently. She was tentative, untrained, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t. It was too fucking awesome. Perfect. She explored him with leisurely kisses and caresses, tracing the long bulging vein down to his nest and then nibbling her way back up. Each touch, each lick, each agonizing lap drove him deeper into insanity. But it was a delicious madness.
Edging higher, she took him deeper, burying his cock in her throat. Sensation scored him, his mind spun, his breath wheezed. And she sucked.
“Ah! God.” A warble.
Though he filled her mouth, he felt her smile. She began a slow sultry slide. Up and down, up and down. He squeezed his eyes shut and focused on it, taking it all in, memorizing it.
When her haphazard movements became too excruciating to bear, he laced his fingers in her hair and guided her in a more satisfying rhythm. She seemed to understand what he was asking for, because once she caught the pace, holy fuck, once she caught the pace, she devastated him.
Moving faster, holding him more firmly, sucking harder, she worked him.
He should stop her, he thought as the snarl in his balls became a howl, when his body constricted and he felt the familiar harbingers of orgasm.
It was wrong to use her like this, to let her please him without giving anything back. To empty himself in her mouth.
But he couldn’t stop. Couldn’t…
Her fingers fluttered over his thighs, over his belly, over his chest. She set her palms flat on him, this beautiful girl, and stroked his hideous scars—as though she didn’t care.
As though she didn’t see him as a freak. As ugly. As someone who really didn’t belong in this world.
He had yearned for this, yearned for such acceptance, his entire life.
It rose, the demanding beast coiled in his belly. It rose, and roared. Unable to control himself, he held on to the back of her head and thrust into her mouth. She took him. All the way.
Her hands drifted over his mottled skin, finding all his scars and loving them. And then, as though she knew, as though she felt his crisis approach, she encircled him. Intensified her barrage. Coaxed him to detonate.
It was blinding, the bliss. A hot white curtain fell, engulfing him in sensation, in an unaccountable serenity. He shook, lunged, howled as he released.
And she took it all. She took everything.
Without hesitation.
He stared down at her as she continued to suck and swallow and consume his seed, his soul. Her eyes were closed, as though she was soaking it in as well. As though what he’d given her had pleased her.
No one had ever done that for him.
No one had ever accepted who he was—scars and all.
No one had ever embraced him in such a fashion.
When, finally she lifted her head, he yanked her up into his arms and kissed her.
Not the gentle sweet buss from last night. This was a frantic thing, but a thing of desperate thanks.
God help him. She was perfect.
He was lost.
She hadn’t expected him to kiss her like that.
Though she could tell from his frenzied react
ion to her touch, from his moans and the rise of his root chakra energy, he enjoyed what she’d done. And he’d come. Erupted into her mouth with a flood of salty, musky flavor, tinged as it was, by his pleasure.
It had been delicious.
She’d known she’d pleased him. But she hadn’t expected the kiss, the wave of raw gratitude.
When he pulled back, he didn’t say anything. He just looked at her with his palm on her cheek, his thumb stroking her lips. His gaze was bold, brash, as though he could see to her soul. A sudden shyness suffused her.
“I…” She began cleaning up the papers and wrappers strewn on the bed. “I should go.”
“Kaitlin.”
She stilled and met his eyes. “Yes, Parker?”
“Thank you.”
Her lips quirked up. “You’re welcome.”
“No. I mean…thank you.”
As she gazed at him she saw it. The depth of his appreciation. But she felt it too. For a short while, two very lonely souls hadn’t been so very alone.
“Will I see you again?” he asked.
“I’m here all weekend,” she murmured. “I hope so. Thank you for saving the eagle.”
He gestured at his bandage, or perhaps to his groin. “Thank you for saving me.”
She slipped out of the house the same way she’d come in and made her way back home. Astonishingly, no one was up when she pushed through the door. It seemed like a hundred years, a lifetime, had passed since she’d left this morning.
But the coffee was ready. She poured herself a cup and went to sit on the deck and watch the water. She tried to enjoy the view, the breeze, the scent of pine wafting through the boughs, but she couldn’t. She was suffused with his scent. It filled her, saturated her.
Her body hummed for completion, pinged with an ache she didn’t understand—but did.
After a while Jamie padded down the stairs and joined her on the deck, which was nice. The distraction. They chatted about nonsense. Television shows and movies and an art auction she’d gone to recently. When Bella and Holt wandered into the kitchen, she and Jamie went inside and started talking about what they wanted for breakfast. They were debating between French toast and pancakes when Tara padded downstairs with a yawn.
“What do you want for breakfast, Tara?” Bella asked.
Tara snorted. “I am not making breakfast.”
“Did I ask you to make breakfast?”
“I know you, Bella. A question like that? In the morning? To a baker? It’s my day off.”
Bella looked at Holt. “I didn’t ask her to make breakfast, did I? I simply said, ‘What do you want for breakfast.’ Huge difference.”
Holt held up his hands and snorted a laugh. “Leave me out of this.”
“It’s Emily’s turn to cook, anyway,” Bella muttered.
Kaitlin frowned as something pinged in the back of her consciousness.
“Is it?” Jamie asked.
“Yeah. The last time we came, Kristi and I cooked.”
Tara wrinkled her nose. “I heard you made some weird tofu thing. Surely that doesn’t count.”
Bella blew out a breath. “Jeese-o-frickin-peese. I’m telling you. It’s Emily’s turn to cook!”
That something pinged again. Kaitlin stilled and tried to focus on it. It grew. Her gut lurched.
Good gravy.
“Where is Emily?” Her tone must have carried her panic because everyone froze and glanced around the room.
“Emily?” Holt scrubbed his face with a palm.
“Still in bed?” Bella muttered.
“Is she?” Kaitlin knew she wasn’t, knew Emily was not in this house. And hadn’t been for some time.
Why, oh why hadn’t she sensed it sooner?
Because she’d been distracted that’s why. She’d been too focused on herself. Heat crawled up her neck. A prickle of dread blossomed as Bella stomped upstairs to check on Emily. She returned, subdued. “Emily’s not there. And her bed hasn’t been slept in.”
“When is that last time anyone saw her?” Holt asked.
Bella tapped her lip. “Last night.”
Jamie nodded. “She came back from Darby’s with us.”
“And no one saw her leave after that?” Kaitlin wandered to the slider and stared out at the ocean. It was calm, deep blue. The sunlight skipped on the waves.
“Shit.” Holt raked his hand through his hair. “Shit.”
“Oh, God.” Jamie went pale.
Kaitlin drew in a deep breath as she focused on Emily, dear Emily…and peace descended. “She’s fine.” She had no idea where the words, the certainty had come from. But she knew. Knew there was no reason to worry. Every eye snapped to her.
God, she hated that. When people stared.
“Are you…sure?” Tara asked.
“I’m sure.” In fact—
The back door opened and Emily slipped in, making herself small, as though she might go unnoticed.
She did not.
She looked disheveled. Her hair, which was always perfectly coiffed was decidedly…uncoiffed. Her makeup was slightly smeared… and her aura was all swirly. Kaitlin tipped her head in an attempt to read the colors.
Something had happened.
Something big.
“Where the hell have you been?” Bella bellowed. “I went to your room this morning and your bed hadn’t been slept in.”
“I told you she was safe,” Kaitlin murmured.
“Damn it, Emily,” Bella’s voice rose into a wail. “We’ve been worried sick.”
Emily nibbled her lip. “I’m sorry. Ash took me out for a ride on his Jet Ski last night—”
“Last night?” Tara chirped. She glanced meaningfully at the clock on the wall.
Bella’s nose wrinkled. “Ash?” She shot a look at Holt, who bristled.
“And the motor conked out.”
Holt snarled. A little bit. “The…motor conked out?”
“We-we had to spend the night on the island.” A blush flooded her cheeks.
All hell broke loose.
Drew wandered in on the scene, and both he and Holt went into Neanderthal mode, bellowing at Emily and barking questions.
Oh dear. Poor Emily. She was nearly as sensitive as Kaitlin. They had no idea what they were doing to her, battering her with these hostile waves. This interrogation—about something so intimate—must be mortifying. Her colors, which had been so clear and sparkling when she’d come in, were now cloudy. Kaitlin set her hand on Emily’s back and stroked.
The questioning continued with Drew and Holt and everyone joining in.
Emily’s tension rose to an unbearable level as they all peppered questions at her until she finally snapped and ran up the stairs to her room. And slammed the door.
Kaitlin winced. Emily never slammed anything.
“Well you’ve done it now.” Bella glared at Drew, who had done most of the yelling.
“What?” He waved his hand manically. “She went out with some strange guy. Spent the night with some strange guy! Emily!”
Emily. Who had always been as timid with men as Kaitlin. And for good reason.
“You upset her,” Kaitlin said softly.
Drew’s expression fell. “I’m sorry Kaitlin. I didn’t mean to—”
“I’m not the one you need to apologize to.”
His shoulders slumped. “Should I go talk to her?”
“No!” A chorus. All the women. In tandem.
“Make her breakfast,” Bella said, patting him on the shoulder. “That will make her feel better.”
“Breakfast?”
“French toast.”
“Pancakes,” Jamie countered.
“And don’t forget the bacon.”
“Do you think she would like that?” Drew asked Kaitlin.
Bella nodded solemnly. “Yeah. She would.”
Chapter Six
Jamie and Bella followed Kaitlin up to Emily’s room—which was annoying. She needed a friend right now, one who
understood better than anyone what had really happened. Not overzealous friends who wanted to barrage her with more questions.
As it was, Bella and Jamie only made things worse. It took a while for Kaitlin to get them to shoo and by the time she did, Emily was crying in earnest.
It broke Kaitlin’s heart.
Emily was the gentlest soul she knew. Whatever had happened to her, she needed healing, support. Her colors were tangled in a way Kaitlin couldn’t interpret. But there was something different about her. Something had changed.
A vision filled her mind. A cabin. Darkened but by a crackling fire. A man and a woman. Entangled. A—
Good gravy. Kaitlin froze. Heat walked up the back of her neck. Emily…and Ash.
And yes, it was as Kaitlin had suspected. Emily had, indeed, spent the night with Ash Bristol. Given herself to him.
For someone like Emily, who had been as scarred as Kaitlin by an incident long in the past—someone who had deliberately and determinedly avoided men—this was monumental.
She folded her friend into a hug. “Oh, Em. Are you going to be okay?” she murmured into her hair.
“I think so.” But she wasn’t. Her aura took on a murky gray hue. “I’m not sure what happens now. I kind of got the sense he was withdrawing. You know, when we came back. He didn’t want to talk about it or hang out together or anything.”
A skirl of trepidation washed through Kaitlin. If Ash had used Emily, just for a one night stand, it would devastate her. Especially after everything she’d been through. “Men can be that way,” she said calmingly, as though she knew. “Do you really like him?”
“Yes.”
“Then we need to talk to him. To see where he stands.” It would be better for Emily if she knew, for certain, where Ash stood. Otherwise she would make herself sick fretting over it. “Do you want to go for a walk?”
“Now?”
Kaitlin nodded. “Now.” There was no sense in letting her worry fester.
Parker's Passion Page 5
