Seeking Sanctuary_A Shelter Me Novel

by Annie Anderson

  It didn’t.

  Before I could worry I’d turned us around, the soft light of a bedside lamp filtered through my closed eyelids. I’d wanted to keep them open, but when her lips were on mine, I just couldn’t do it. The feel of her in my arms, the brush of her mouth on mine, the wet heat of her tongue dueling with mine could only be felt at its zenith if I shut out everything else.

  But then she drew back from my lips, and my lids reluctantly decided to haul their way up. Jesus, she was fucking beautiful. The slightly marred rose of her lips puffy from kissing, the heat in her eyes, the mussed wreck of her hair. I couldn’t freaking believe my luck.

  My mouth found its way to the curve of her neck, that gentle slope just under her ear. There were still faint green splotches of fading bruises there, but I hoped my touch helped wash it away somehow. As soon as my lips made contact, Isla stiffened, pulling away.

  “What is it, Sugar?”

  “I… I don’t… You don’t have to…” she trailed off, the line of her body hunching into itself.

  “I don’t have to what? Kiss your fucking beautiful neck? I don’t have to put my mouth on your pulse point just to feel it jump against my lips? I don’t have to bury my nose on that spot just under your ear where you smell just like wildflowers? I beg to differ, Sugar. I need to do all those things.”

  Her lids went heavy at that, but she still chewed on her bottom lip, uncertain.

  “But it’s ugly.”

  I turned us, parking my ass on the edge of her bed. She had to know nothing on her or about her could be ugly.

  “No, Sugar. It’s the most beautiful thing on this fucking planet. Know why? Because it means you survived. It means you’re here and not dead. It means I got to meet you and kiss you and fall like the dumbstruck idiot I am. I may not like those bruises, and I may not like how you came to this town or to me, but goddamn, I am fucking lucky you did. In so many ways, I’m the luckiest son of a bitch on this planet.”

  Isla blinked, the tears that had been welling in her eyes overflowing her lids and tracking down her cheeks.

  “Are you going to let me kiss you here,” I asked as I ran a fingertip from the base of her ear down to her collarbone. The shiver I got was almost as good as the nearly moaned yes that came not a second later.

  The palm of my right hand snaked up from her hip to just under her breast, my thumb sweeping just under the swell.

  “You going to let me kiss you here?” A nod.

  “What about here?” I asked as I brushed that lucky fucking thumb over her peaked nipple. I took her moan as a yes. “And here?” My question a tease as I hooked my fingers into the loose strap of her tank top and pulled it aside so my mouth could find the skin there.

  Isla shifted then, pressing more into me as she rubbed her hot center over the bulge in my pajama pants. I couldn’t decide if going commando in them was a good idea or not until I felt the searing heat of her through just her short shorts and my pants.

  Definitely a good idea. Probably one of my best.

  But Isla had one better. Her fingers found the hem of her shirt and up and it was gone exposing all of her creamy skin, perky tits, and the perfect pair of soft pink nipples.

  I wanted to be gentle. Honestly, I did, but as soon as those beautiful breasts came into play, I couldn’t stop myself from standing just to plant her in that bed, finding my way between her slim legs faster than I thought possible. I at least had enough neurons firing to check on her after I did it. Pulling back to gauge her expression. All I saw was lust and heat and a little impatience.

  I think I smiled before I pressed my mouth to hers, but all thought of teasing flew out the window when her hand managed to snake inside my cotton pajama pants and circled around my dick. My groan vibrated into her mouth as I rolled us, the shock in her eyes melting into blue pools of heat. Isla sat up, daintily climbing off of my lap as she eased the striped pajamas shorts down her slim hips.

  My girl was smart, I’ll give her that. And then she was naked – just her pale skin and dark hair and perfect handful breasts. Wavy tendrils of it flowed over her shoulders to fall against her chest in a game of peek-a-boo I was all too happy to play.

  Her skin needed to be on mine.

  Right. Fucking. Now.

  Following her lead, I hooked my thumbs in my waistband, shedding the last bit of clothing I hoped either of us would wear for the foreseeable future. Before I dropped my pants, though, I snatched a condom from one of the deep pockets and put it on the nightstand.

  Isla almost looked relieved when she followed my fingers to the packet.

  “I forgot all about those. Thank you,” she murmured, a soft but wry smile on her face. I was just guessing, but I didn’t think Isla had ever forgotten anything so important as a condom in her life.

  Then my mouth found its way to her skin, pressing open-mouthed kisses to her neck, my tongue finding a home curled around her nipples, my fingers sliding through the wet heat of her. Every moan she made was music to my ears.

  But Isla was more impatient than I gave her credit for. She pushed on my shoulders, causing me to stop everything to gauge her again. She took advantage of my preoccupation to roll us back, reaching to the nightstand for the condom. Her body was strung tight, practically vibrating like mine was.

  I’d never been with someone like this – so fevered, so needy – the pair of us practically shivering with the desire for the other. I fucking loved it.

  Sitting up, I plucked the packet from her fingers, tearing the foil and rolling it on my dick faster than I had in my entire life. Then she was there, our mouths barely touching as she positioned my dick at her opening and slid down inch by inch.

  Jesus, fuck, goddamn.

  I might have said those words out loud, or maybe I thought them. All I knew was, Isla more than owned me, she consumed me. Lit a fire in my gut and watched me burn.

  Our love-making was slow, torturous – eyes wide open with everything we didn’t or couldn’t say to each other, mouths colliding with fevered kisses and hot breaths. When we were sweaty, shivering, and nearly out of our minds, I took over, rolling so her back was in the mattress. My thrusts and her moans turning feverish until we lost it – her tumbling over the ledge before yanking me down with her.

  Isla’s heart pounded against my chest, and I finally gathered the wherewithal to pull my face from the crook of her neck. Her fuck-drunk, blissed-out smile was all I needed to see, only a tiny frown marring it when I slid out like she didn’t want any part of me to leave her. Fuck, babe, me too.

  “Shower?” I croaked, still caught in the thrall of the sheer amount of beautiful still in my arms.

  “Mm-hmm,” she murmured, eyes closed, nodding with her head still against the mattress, not moving an inch.

  “Do I need to carry you?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Your wish…” I trailed off as I planted my feet in the wool rug and scooped her up. By her startled squawk, she didn’t expect me to do that. Her blue eyes flashed with mirth, a giggle stealing its way out of her lips even as she slapped at my shoulders. I jiggled her a bit, and the playful slapping stopped as she held on for dear life.

  “If you’re sweet to me, maybe I’ll eat you in that shower,” I offered, my whisper hitting the shell of her ear before my teeth grazed it.

  Her answering squirm was totally worth it, but the look of pure carnal desire made me want to tell her dirty things like that every fucking day.

  “Oh, I’ll be the sweetest fucking thing you’ve ever had.” Her whisper had my tired dick perking up for round two, recovering faster than I ever had.

  Jesus, fuck, goddamn.

  Yep, I was keeping this woman. Fuck anyone who’d take her from me, fuck baggage and issues be damned.

  Isla was mine, and I was hers, and the rest of the world could go fuck itself.

  16

  ISLA

  The sun streaming through my window was my first clue that I’d slept in late. The second was the co
ld sheets where Levi used to be. We found each other many times in the night, but I’d expected him to be here in the morning, and couldn’t help the disappointment that coursed through me that he wasn’t. A bellowing curse followed by the piercing shriek of the smoke alarm cured the blow in an instant. I plucked my tank and sleep shorts from a far-flung heap on the floor and made short work of covering my bits and pieces before I had to evacuate.

  I found the source of all the trouble in my kitchen in the form of the pajama-clad orgasm wrangler currently waving smoke away from my cast iron pan filled with burnt bacon.

  Sacrilege.

  Not saying a word, I hip-checked him out of the way, turning the burner off. Working together, we opened the front door, turned on the ceiling fans, and proceeded to throw open every window. Smoke filled the open space, but it finally started clearing as I tossed a good-natured glare Levi’s way. He saw my glare and raised me a cheeky grin.

  If he weren’t so cute, I’d kick him in the shin for burning bacon.

  “Morning,” I murmured when the smoke alarm finally gave up the ghost and shut the hell up. Levi’s arms found their way around me, as I buried my nose in the thin patch of hair between his pecs. It smelled like his cologne and him and a little like sex. I had zero problems with that. Hell, I’d bathe in it if I could.

  “Please tell me you didn’t touch the coffee pot,” I joked as I took stock of the bacon massacre. Splotches of grease peppered the counter and backsplash as the withered husk of my yummy maple-smoked bacon sat listlessly in the pan. If he was this shit at bacon, I couldn’t begin to fathom what he could do to the rest of breakfast.

  “No, I didn’t. I thought I could start the bacon, but you saw what kind of dumpster fire that turned out to be.” Levi’s every-colored eyes crinkled at the corners as he gave me a self-deprecating grin. I liked that grin a lot, it gave him the tiniest of dimples right where his cheekbone and eye met. It was fucking adorable.

  But still. Bacon had been harmed today, and rules needed to be made.

  “New rule. No touching my pans. If you want breakfast and I’m not there to make it, go out.”

  Honestly, it was for the best. There was a massacre committed today. The horror.

  “And here I thought I could be the ‘brings breakfast in bed after a night of rousing sex’ kind of guy. Quit crushing my dreams, Isla.”

  “While I love that you wanted to bring me breakfast in bed, I don’t trust you with the toaster. Your kitchen privileges are revoked until I give you the proper training.”

  “Fine,” Levi grumbled, but the squeeze I got told me he didn’t really mind too much.

  I inspected the pan which was a charred mess of bacon grease. “I’ll have to wait to clean that pan until after work. Hopefully, the burnt bits won’t affect the seasoning too much.”

  “What do you mean ‘after work’? You’re not going to work today.” Levi’s voice was a pissed off kind of growl that seemed to flip my bitch switch. Maybe it was all I’d gone through with Cole, perhaps it was the general pissed-off levels to his tone, but I leveled him with my best what the fuck glare.

  “Yeah. I am. I’ve almost caught all the mistakes the Anti-Christ made on your books and shored up all your accounts. Plus, there is a shipment of synthetic and filters coming in today, and I don’t want Graham to fuck up my system with the purchase orders. So, I’m going in.”

  Graham, while seemingly a decent human being, didn’t want to be in the same room with me, let alone endure the organization conversations we needed to have. I don’t know what kind of filing system that was in place before me, but I’m pretty sure it qualified for an episode of ‘Hoarders.’

  Hell no, I was not taking the day off to come back to a mess. Nuh-uh.

  “Isla. You were knocked out yesterday. You probably have a concussion, but we’ll never know because you won’t go to the doctor. You’re not going.”

  “Excuse me, Mr. Grady, but one night’s access to my pussy does not give you unequivocal dominion over what I do. I’ve had my fair share of concussions, and I can tell you I don’t have one. I was never unconscious, my pupils were completely reactive, and I didn’t even need stitches. Trust me, I’ve had worse.”

  That seemed to deflate him a bit. His hands raked through his hair as he blew out a huge breath.

  “First off, that was a low blow, Sugar. You and I both know it was not just one night’s access,” he said with a grin, “I was under the impression I had a lifetime season pass. Second, you were bleeding from the head, baby. You can take a goddamn day off.” His voice was low and a little pleading, but I’d set in my heels. I couldn’t back down now. It didn’t matter that Levi wasn’t anything like Cole. I needed to prove to me that I wasn’t a pushover.

  “I really can’t,” I insisted, crossing my arms over my chest in a ‘that’s final’ sort of way. I probably looked like an idiot.

  “You’re not going to budge on this, are you?” he sighed, his defeat imminent.

  “Not even a little.”

  “Can I at least bargain that I get to drive you in, and if you feel even a little uncomfortable or sick that I get to take you home?” That was a compromise I could get on board with.

  “Deal.”

  * * *

  It took me a second to look up from my spreadsheet at the sound of the door. Sure, I got the odd customer ready to pay their bill, but more often than not, it was Levi who came to visit me in the office rather than a customer. As slammed as the garage typically was, I didn’t get too many people in here.

  But Levi had just left to go grab breakfast, and I could feel Graham’s eyes boring a hole in my right cheek. He’d been assigned to look out for me, but for some reason, he didn’t want to be in the office with me. I didn’t blame him. I made Graham uneasy – likely a reminder of his own problems and the bruises they had made on his soul.

  When the seething energy stole through the room, I peeled my eyes off the monitor to see Orin looming over my desk. The look on his face was a mix of thunder and rage acute enough to have me pushing off the floor, so I could roll backward and away from him.

  Deputy or not, I did not feel safe right then. Not at all.

  His eyes were black orbs of fury, and I had zero desire for them to be pointed at me. Through gritted teeth, he said, “Do you want to tell me why you haven’t pressed charges on Pippa yet?”

  Uh, not really, officer… My hands clutched the arms of my office chair for all they were worth.

  “It was a simple misunderstanding,” I offered lamely, hoping my poker face held even though my voice wavered.

  “A simple misunderstanding?” he whispered, and for some reason, that whisper reminded me of Cole. The way his voice would get soft right before his hands got hard. “She ambushed you in the ladies’ room and pushed you hard enough that you hit your head. That isn’t a misunderstanding, Ms. Young, that’s assault.” His voice was still pitched low, but it felt like a knife against my skin with the way his words whipped with rage. My breaths came faster, and I could feel the panic racing through my blood.

  He’s not Cole. Cole is dead. Cole is dead. Cole is dead. He can’t hurt you anymore.

  “I know what assault is, Deputy, and while I don’t like Pippa much, what happened was an accident.”

  Maybe it was, or maybe it wasn’t, but I still didn’t plan on painting a big bullseye on my ass by filing a police report. A part of me didn’t know if Smitty’s magic with my new identification would hold up under the scrutiny of the long arm of the law. If anyone dug deep enough, they’d find that Isla Young didn’t exist a month ago. I would always be looking over my shoulder. It was a fact I had to get used to.

  “What a load of bullshit!” Orin exploded, causing me to jump, pressing myself into the filing cabinets behind me.

  When the garage side door slammed open, it was almost a relief. Almost, because Graham came barreling into the office and then I had two huge men in the small space of my office blistering with rage.


  I would rather have been just about anywhere else at that moment.

  But Graham didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. All he did was squeeze his large frame in between Orin and the desk, planting his butt on my February financials as he crossed his arms.

  “You’re playing bodyguard against me now?” Orin volleyed, and I had a feeling if he weren’t wearing that badge, he would have put his fist in Graham’s face.

  “When you’re acting like a dick and scaring the shit out of a woman half your size? Yeah. I am.” Graham’s voice was a low rumble of unadulterated calm. The line of his shoulders told another tale altogether, but no one would know by his voice.

  Orin’s gaze flicked from Graham to me, and for the first time, it seemed to dawn on him that he was scaring the ever-loving shit out of me.

  “That’s not… I didn’t mean…” Orin trailed off before heaving a huge sigh. “We have to let her go if you don’t press charges, and she could come back and do worse. You’ve gone through enough.”

  As true as that was, I still wasn’t going to give him what he wanted.

  “I appreciate your concern, but it was a misunderstanding. That woman’s father is in the hospital. Let her go. I’m not going to press charges.”

  Orin looked almost disappointed in me before his face blanked as the door behind him opened. Levi took a stutter step into the room, read the tension, and maneuvered himself between the Deputy and me, parking his ass on the March financials next to Graham.

  I couldn’t see Orin at all, but I could hear his frustrated growl before the office door slammed open once again, wafts of his fury following him out the door.

  Yay. I’ve pissed off local law enforcement.

  “You alright, Sugar?” Levi asked as he set a plastic to-go container on the only paper-free section of my desk. I tried not to look rattled, but I knew I was failing miserably because Levi’s jean-covered knees were in the commercial grade carpet and he’d grabbed my chair and hauled me to him.