Taming Her Racy Ways [Racy Nights 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Tara Rose

  The scent of his cologne mixed with familiar smells from the garage filled her head. She was aware of his breathing, as fast and shallow as her own, and also of the hardness of his muscled left arm and thigh pressed up against her right side. When he put his arm around her and drew her close, she bit back a moan.

  She hadn’t been this physically close to him in eighteen years, and even the sound of the storm and the still-wailing sirens couldn’t dim her arousal. Fat tears spilled over her lids, and she blinked them away. She had to push aside those feelings for now, but it was difficult to do so after everything that had happened tonight.

  For eighteen years she had missed him, and for eighteen years she had watched him from afar, too ashamed and humiliated to say anything or give him so much as a hint that she hadn’t wanted things to end between them. She understood now of course why they’d had to end things when they were teens, but then she’d waited all through high school and her two years at the College of Court Reporting in Hobart for him to tell her that he still wanted to be with her, but he never had. All their vows of love when they were so young had meant nothing to him, but Marisol had never stopped loving him.

  Leela and Bonnie had hounded her for five years to say something to him, but pride kept her from doing so. Finally they backed off, and Marisol had dated off and on, but no one ever measured up to Rafe. He was the gold standard, and every other man fell short.

  Even when they’d broken up and he’d called her a little schoolgirl, she knew he hadn’t meant it. He’d had to say that to save face. His parents had put as much pressure on him as Marisol’s had put on her. He’d said that because they were standing there, on the river walk, and Marisol was crying. Rafe was trying very hard not to, and Marisol knew that if he hadn’t said something to cause her to turn away, he’d have cried as well. That would have made his humiliation too much to bear, and she understood that. She’d forgiven him for calling her that within seconds. Did he know that? Did he even still remember that terrible afternoon?

  “You okay?” he whispered.

  She swallowed hard at the sound of that voice, soft and sultry. If only they were in bed right now, snuggled up after making love instead of hiding from a tornado. But that would never happen.

  “Scared shitless.” That was the truth at least, but she was afraid of more than just the storm. “You?”

  “Pretty much the same.”

  She was stunned. Rafe was a true Hispanic male all the way. He kept up a stoic, alpha, rough-and-tough exterior. He never showed emotion, and he never admitted fears or insecurities. For him to say that either meant he was way more comfortable around her than she’d assumed, or they were both going to die and somehow he knew it.

  “It doesn’t seem to be letting up. I can still hear the tornado sirens.” She tried to bring up the Internet on her phone so they could see the radar, but the page wouldn’t load. “Shit. Do you think a cell tower was hit or something?”

  “Either that or the signals are just jammed.”

  “That’s not good.”

  He gave her shoulder a squeeze, and Marisol’s breath caught in her throat as she tried again to hold back a moan. It came out as a sigh. “It’ll be okay, Marisol.”

  It might, and then again it might not. But even after the storm passed, nothing between them would have changed. Her life would still go on without him in it, and he’d return to giving her no more than a passing nod whenever he saw her on the street.

  Chapter Two

  Rafe’s dick was so hard it was painful. Only he could get turned on in the middle of a fucking tornado. Then again, how could he have helped it? Every time he got within five hundred yards of Marisol, his cock grew hard. Sitting here in the dark, playing protector while he held her close, was the ultimate test of his willpower, and he was failing miserably.

  His friends had finally stopped asking him why the hell he hadn’t simply asked her out again once she turned eighteen. How could he have done that after he’d called her a little schoolgirl and sent her away? Sure, he’d done that because his father had pretty much threatened to cuff off his balls if he didn’t stop dating her. She had been fourteen, after all. But he’d never done anything with her other than kiss her. And once he’d copped a feel, but he’d told her it had been an accident.

  No one had believed him though, and the worst night of his life still haunted his dreams. He could still hear his father’s voice, and he could still see the droplets of spit flying out of his mouth as he called Rafe a puto. His mother had been crying, which only made the false accusation that much worse. Nothing he’d said had convinced his parents that he’d never had sex with Marisol.

  How could he expect her to forgive all the things his parents had said to hers? He was certain her parents had told her about them. What was done could never be undone, and so Rafe had suffered in silence for eighteen years, watching Marisol earn her associate degree in court reporting, date other men, and go out to have fun with her friends.

  He had longed to be a part of her life but couldn’t think of the words to say that would erase those horrible few days when they’d only been kids, unable to stay away from each other. It was ridiculous when he stepped back long enough to think about it logically. They were adults now. It should be easy. So why couldn’t he tell her how he still felt? Why was he sitting here in the dark with her, not saying a word?

  She tried to send a text, and it didn’t go through. “Stop that,” he said. “If the lines are jammed with people trying to call for help, you’ll only make it worse.”

  “I’m worried about Leela and Bonnie. What if they’re still in the bar? What if the bar got hit?” Her voice shook, and he pulled her closer.

  “We just have to wait it out, Marisol. And then we can drive downtown if you want, okay?”

  “Really?” He couldn’t see her face, but he knew she was gazing up at him. It would be so easy to just lean over and kiss her right now. “Do you mean it?”

  “Sure I do. I have friends and family to check on, too, you know.” Why did he always sound like he was lecturing her? He didn’t mean to. She must think him the biggest ass in the world right now. He was just as afraid as she was for the town and everyone in it, but he had to stay strong for her.

  “Oh, of course.”

  The sirens stopped wailing, and somehow the silence that followed was worse than the sounds of thunder and wind had been. Rafe wasn’t sure how long they both sat there, silent…waiting. Marisol’s perfume filled his head, making it difficult to process anything other than his raging hard-on.

  She tried again to send a text, and it still didn’t go through. “I guess we can go outside now.” She sounded as enthusiastic about that idea as she would about having root canal work.

  Rafe stood and helped her to her feet, then slowly opened the door. The glow of a streetlamp lit the basement, and he breathed a sigh of relief. If something had happened, it wasn’t in this neighborhood. They still had power. “Come on,” he said. “You can do this.”

  She took his hand and together they climbed the stairs. When they reached the top, she opened the door and peered out. Stepping into the foyer, she crossed to a small table and switched on a lamp. It lit up, and she almost smiled. “Let me go check upstairs real quick and change out of these boots. Is that okay?”

  “Of course.”

  She sprinted up the stairs, and he watched her curvy ass wiggle in tight jeans, not feeling the least bit guilty as he did so. Then he pulled out his cell and tried to call his brother, Luke, but the call didn’t go through. This was bad. Something had definitely happened, but the question was where in town had the tornado struck?

  He was about to search for the remote and flip on her TV when she came down the stairs wearing athletic shoes. She’d changed into a sweatshirt as well.

  “In case it’s cold out now,” she said, catching his gaze.

  He didn’t think it was necessary to tell her that he hadn’t been critiquing her wardrobe, only staring at
her boobs. “Good idea.”

  The silence outside was more deafening than the storm had been. He started up his truck, and as they drove toward town, the wail of police and fire engine sirens reached their ears. As they drove past the garage, Rafe spotted debris on the road. The streetlights were out here, but he didn’t want to stop and check on the garage. He wanted to drive downtown. If something had happened here, he’d have to deal with it later. Right now he was more worried about his family and her friends.

  They were stopped a few blocks away from Market Street. Traffic jammed the area, and sirens wailed. He spotted several cops waving flashlights, directing people off the road ahead. Flares had been set up. The place looked like a war zone. Debris was everywhere, and Rafe saw numerous tree limbs down as the flashlight beams swept across lawns.

  He pulled the truck over to the curb, and he and Marisol got out. The rain had stopped, but it was still windy, and the air smelled damp and heavy, as though another storm were brewing. One glance at Marisol told him just how afraid she was, and he took her hand as they approached Will Conner, one of the cops holding a flashlight. “How bad is it, Will?”

  “Several buildings on Market and Main were hit, and we have scattered reports of damage north of there. Utility poles are down and there are live wires around, so we’re diverting traffic for now.”

  “Is anyone hurt?”

  “Don’t know yet. If you’re going downtown, be careful where you walk, okay?”

  Rafe nodded then turned toward Marisol. Tears coursed down her cheeks, and his heart gave a lurch. Without second-guessing the impulse, he pulled her into his arms and held her close. “It’s okay. I’m going to get a flashlight from my truck, and we’ll walk downtown together, okay?”

  “Rafe, don’t leave me tonight.”

  Oh God, this was torture. He was fearful for his family and wanted to make love to her for hours, all at the same time. “I won’t.”

  After he forced himself to release the embrace, he sprinted back to his truck and retrieved the flashlight then took Marisol’s hand again as they walked toward Market Street.

  * * * *

  Marisol had seen tree limbs down and shingles blown off roofs from storms before. And just four months ago in January, a blizzard with ridiculously strong winds had torn half the roof off City Hall. But she’d never seen anything like this firsthand. Debris littered the streets. She spotted insulation, papers, shingles, and a doll. The sight of that broke her heart. Some little girl was probably looking for it.

  Marisol picked it up and brushed off the dust and dirt, and then cradled it against her chest as she and Rafe continued toward Market Street. Memories of the time she’d lost the doll she’d named Chrissy forced their way in.

  They’d been staying at her cousin’s house in Henderson, Kentucky, for a few days, and in spite of her mother urging Marisol not to bring the doll when they’d gone to visit, she had done so anyway. To this day, Marisol had no clue what had happened to her doll, but she’d cried for weeks afterward. What if the little girl who lost this doll was feeling the same way right now?

  As they turned the corner, Marisol stopped and stared, unable to comprehend what she was seeing. One entire section of buildings had been hit, on both sides of the street. Large work lights had already been set up and people were placing tarps where they could. They were busy boarding up windows and walls with plywood and moving bricks and two-by-fours out of the way to make a path for the workers.

  Sirens wailed, and although the area was jammed with people, very few of them were just standing around watching. They were working or fetching supplies for those who were. A familiar voice rang out, calling her name.

  “Marisol, over here.” Marisol rushed into the arms of Leela, who squeezed her so tightly in a bear hug that Marisol could hardly breathe. “The bar was hit.”

  “Oh my God…” She glanced up into Rafe’s face, but his focus was on Luke and Ria, walking toward him. Marisol offered up a silent prayer of thanks. They both appeared to be unharmed. She turned her attention back to Leela. “Bonnie?”

  “She’s on top of a roof, girl. Already has a hammer in her hand. You should have been there, Marisol. She heard the tornado before any of us did. You know how we always tease her about being part cat. And then she yelled for everyone to get into the basement.”

  Marisol wiped away her tears. That sounded exactly like Bonnie. “What can we do?”

  “Nothing. They’re telling everyone to just stay put for now or go home. Except that one of the apartment buildings on this street was hit. The one where Annalise lives. All those folks are homeless. They’re waiting at Nan’s Place right now. It has some damage and no power, but Emma stayed open so they could wait indoors until the cell lines are working again and they can make phone calls.”

  Marisol showed her the doll. “I found this on the next street. It might belong to someone who lived here.”

  “Leela, is anyone hurt?” asked Rafe. He had one arm around Ria. Luke was still trying to make a call on his cell phone.

  “Not that we know of.” She nodded toward Luke. “He’s been trying to reach Chase and Alexa, but someone said Lawnview Drive wasn’t hit, and they were both home tonight, so he thinks they’re okay.” Alexa was Luke and Chase’s sub, and they all lived above Tye Me Up, Racy’s only sex shop that Alexa and her best friend, Kari Tye, had opened just before Christmas.

  Marisol embraced Ria. “What about you? Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, just pretty shaken up. And we can’t reach our parents.” Ria’s parents lived just north of town with her eldest sister, Rosa. Rafe lived in the apartment above his parents’ garage.

  “Lines are still jammed,” said Luke, stuffing his cell into his pocket.

  “They’re okay,” said Rafe. “They have to be. Want me and Marisol to go over and check on them? It’s not too far, and there are too many people here right now anyway.”

  Luke narrowed his eyes slightly and then glanced from Marisol to Rafe and back again. “I’d appreciate that. I don’t know what else to do right now, but I can’t just leave the bar.”

  Marisol glanced toward the strip of buildings where the bar used to be. The only thing left to identify it was the sign, now lying on the sidewalk. “Luke, I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay. That’s what insurance is for. I’m just glad no one was hurt, and that Pep was downstairs when the tornado hit.” Pep was short for Peppi, Luke and Rafe’s youngest sister. She and Ria were currently living in the apartment above the bar, where Luke used to live before moving in with Chase and Alexa.

  “Well, if there’s nothing we can do here right now,” said Rafe, “we’ll go check on the house. If the cell lines are still down, we’ll come back and let you know that everyone is all right.”

  “Thank you, both of you.” Luke gave Marisol a long searching look, but she averted her gaze. She asked Rafe if they could walk down to Nan’s Place first. She wanted to find the owner of the doll. His eyes widened for a second and he looked down into her face for a long time. She immediately regretted asking. He was worried about his parents.

  “Absolutely,” he said. “It’ll only take a few extra minutes.” Taking her hand, they started down the street toward Nan’s Place. Once inside, Marisol had trouble getting her bearings because of the candlelight. How long would it take any of them to feel normal again?

  Emma, the original Nan’s granddaughter and now current owner, came rushing over and gave Marisol a big hug. “I’m so glad you’re okay. Ria was so worried about you.”

  “We just saw her,” said Marisol. “Emma, I found this close to Market Street. Ria said the apartment building where Annalise lived was hit. I was hoping the owner of it might be here.”

  “Oh, sweetheart. How wonderful of you.” Emma took the doll and asked for everyone’s attention. Then she held it up and asked if anyone recognized it.

  A little girl of maybe five or six years old raised her hand. “It’s mine.” Her little voice shook, and
Marisol blinked back fresh tears.

  Marisol wiped tears off the girl’s face as she handed her the doll, and then she hugged her, fighting back her own tears. Being able to give this little girl back her doll made the pain of losing her own all those years ago a bit easier to remember. This little girl had nothing else right now to hold onto.

  As she and Rafe left to make their way back to his truck, he gave her several sideways glances that she couldn’t interpret. Once they were driving again, he managed to navigate the streets north of town, but it was taking longer than usual to reach his parents’ house because of the traffic and debris. Marisol didn’t speak during the trip. There was nothing to say.

  “That was a really touching gesture.”

  It took her a second or two to realize he’d spoken. “What?”

  “The doll. That was really sweet of you, Marisol.” He almost sounded surprised.

  “Well, I know if it had been me at that age, I’d be happy to see it right now. Anything familiar and normal means a lot to people when they’re devastated by something like this.” She didn’t think it necessary to tell him about Chrissy.

  “I see that a lot in court,” she said instead. “That same shell-shocked look you probably noticed in that little girl’s eyes. Most people on trial for a crime don’t look smug or bored like they do on TV. They look terrified.”

  Rafe glanced at her for so long that she became uncomfortable because his eyes weren’t on the road. Finally he turned his attention back to the street and pulled onto Ash Lane. There was some debris on the street, but it was clear that the damage here was minor compared to downtown.

  “Gracias, Dios,” whispered Rafe.