Insatiable

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Insatiable Page 9

by HELEN HARDT

“No.” From Talon.

  “Not twice.” From Ryan.

  “He wouldn’t do that to us again,” I agreed.

  Ruby nodded. “If you say so. I didn’t know the man.”

  I had a hunch she had more to say, but she kept her mouth shut. Maybe later, when we were home.

  Or maybe not.

  He wouldn’t do that to us again.

  Did I believe my own words?

  Bryce hugged me to him, and though his strong arms gave me warmth and love, a niggling chill swept over me.

  The chill wasn’t fear so much as it was foreboding.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Bryce

  I brought my sweet Marjorie home to the guesthouse and ran a warm bath for her. “Take your time,” I said, “and holler if you need me.”

  She smiled weakly. “I’ll be fine. I just need to get the grunge off me, and then I want to sleep in a nice warm bed.”

  “I can handle that,” I said. “It’s nearing morning.”

  She yawned. “I want to go see Mel and the baby.”

  “We will. After you rest.”

  “No,” she said adamantly. “I want to see them as soon as possible. In the morning.”

  “It is morning, honey.”

  Another yawn split her face. “I just need to wash my hair and clean up a little. Then rest for a few hours. Please, Bryce. I have to see my brother’s baby. And I want him to know I’m okay.”

  I nodded. But was she okay? She’d been through a traumatic ordeal. Thank God no one had touched her inappropriately. I’d have been on a warpath. As it was, I still was on a warpath.

  Talon and Ryan planned to go into the city around nine. We’d go as well. Marj could probably get a couple hours’ sleep at least.

  “All right,” I relented. “I’ll check on you in a few minutes.”

  “I’m okay. Really.”

  I smiled and closed the door to give her some privacy. I wanted to believe she told the truth. I did, in that I believed she thought she was okay. Marjorie Steel was as strong a woman as I’d ever met. But she was also a woman who’d succumbed to pain in the past.

  That damned blade.

  I couldn’t help a smile. That blade might have saved her and Colin. They might not have been able to escape otherwise. Alessandra Booker had been armed, and I’d approached the unit alone because Talon had been dealing with his mother.

  If Colin hadn’t cut their captor, she might have heard me coming.

  I could be dead right now.

  And I wasn’t.

  Because Marj had succumbed to her weakness and hadn’t destroyed that blade like Mel and I had asked.

  I could hardly be angry with her. That razor might have saved her life. And mine and Colin’s, though according to Dominic, their lives hadn’t been in danger.

  What to believe?

  I walked to the kitchen and put the tea kettle on the stove. My mother swore by chamomile tea for relaxation. Maybe it would help Marj.

  A few minutes later, armed with a cup of steaming herb tea, I walked back through the bedroom to the bathroom to check on Marjorie.

  I knocked lightly.

  “Come in,” she said softly.

  She sat in the tub, frothy lather bubbling around her. Her dark hair was wet and plastered to her shoulders and breasts. She looked like a shining angel.

  “I thought you might like some tea.”

  “That was sweet of you. Thanks.”

  “I’ll set it here on the counter.”

  She nodded and stood. Water dripped in rivulets off her wet body.

  My groin responded.

  She was so beautiful, so tempting…but the last thing she needed was me all over her.

  Or perhaps I was wrong.

  Her gaze dropped to my crotch.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  “Anything, my love. Anything.”

  “Make love to me. Now, Bryce. I’m not asking for the earth to move. Just something soft and wonderful. Help me remember what’s beautiful in the world.”

  She stepped out of the tub, and I handed her a towel. She squeezed the wetness from her long hair and then wrapped it into a turban while I encased her in another warm towel. Then I pulled her into my arms and held her close. Her body was warm from the bath, and it permeated into me, infusing me, saturating me.

  Thank God.

  Thank God.

  Thank God.

  My Marjorie was home.

  I kissed the top of her head and held her tightly.

  “Please,” she said again, her whisper more of a hum against my neck.

  I didn’t reply, simply helped her dry the last of the water from her body and left the two towels in a heap on the floor. Then I led her into the bedroom and set her gently on the bed that I’d already turned down.

  My cock was already pulsing, ready for me to thrust into her.

  But she’d asked for soft.

  No matter how much I wanted to get rough—to fuck her thoroughly and mark her, never let anyone take her from me again—I couldn’t. I needed to be there for her now, see to her needs, not my own.

  I undressed slowly, easing each garment from my body in what seemed like slow motion, even though I wanted to tear the clothes into shreds and get inside Marjorie.

  Her gaze never left me, those warm brown eyes searing into me and making me even hotter.

  My cock was hard and ready, but I was determined to go slowly.

  I lay down on the bed and gathered her into my arms. “I love you so much,” I whispered.

  “I love you too.”

  Her words warmed me, made me want to protect her and keep her from all harm.

  I’d already failed at that quest.

  I would not fail again.

  I tilted her chin upward and pressed my lips to hers in the softest of kisses. Her sweet lips were parted, and I longed to force my tongue between them, take her in a firm and drugging kiss that would lead us to everything I desired.

  Instead, I gave her another light kiss on her full pink lips.

  This time, though, she took the lead. She trailed her tongue over my lower lip and then swept it inside my mouth.

  I responded with all my pent-up passion.

  This was the kiss I wanted. The marking kiss. The kiss that would imprint on her psyche and make her mine forever.

  Our lips slid together.

  And then hands. Hers on my cheek and then my shoulder. Over my hip and clasped onto my ass. Mine in her silky wet hair, pulling and tugging, sliding over the top of her breast and then to the fleshy indent of her waist, all the way to that jewel between her legs.

  She was wet. She was so wet.

  She broke away from me, panting. “Fuck what I said, Bryce. I don’t want soft. I want hard. Fuck me. Fuck me now.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Marjorie

  Bryce flattened me on my back and hovered above me, sweat dripping from his brow. “You sure?” he panted.

  I bit my lip. “God, yes. Get inside me.”

  And then I was full, so complete, his cock so deep that he touched the edge of my soul.

  No more emptiness. No more fear. No more need.

  Everything was full. My body, my heart, my spirit.

  Everything.

  He touched a part of me so fathomless that I knew I’d never be lost again as long as this man was in my life. Perhaps I’d never need that blade again.

  I lifted my hips to meet every precious thrust. And I rose, slowly, each tug on my clit emanating out to the farthest reaches of my body…until it all snapped into one ferocious climax that burst inside me like a thousand twinkling diamonds.

  That feeling, that feeling of being one with the man I loved and one with the universe at the exact same time…

  “Bryce!” I cried out. “I love you so much, Bryce.”

  He plunged into me again and again, panting, gasping. “I”—thrust—“love”—thrust—“you”—thrust—“too!”

  And he tunn
eled so far into me that my climax began again as he released.

  We soared together for timeless moments until we both lay panting in each other’s arms, recovering from our orgasms.

  He rolled off me and sighed heavily. “I can’t lose you, Marjorie. I can’t ever lose you.”

  I snuggled into his chest. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “I’ve never been so scared in my life. When you disappeared…”

  “Shh. I’m okay. They didn’t hurt me.”

  He tensed beneath me. “I’ll kill anyone who hurts you. I swear it.”

  His words both warmed me and sent a chill through me.

  “You’ll never have to,” I said, hoping the words were true.

  Then I breathed in his spicy warm scent—the scent that gave me comfort above all else—and closed my eyes.

  I awoke to the sun’s rays streaming into the bedroom.

  “Bryce?”

  He was gone.

  I reached for the clock on the nightstand. “Noon!”

  I scrambled out of bed and grabbed the closest thing I could find. Bryce’s shirt he’d been wearing the night before.

  “Bryce?” I walked out of the bedroom to the kitchen. “Bryce!”

  “In the office,” came his voice.

  I hurried toward the extra bedroom he’d put into use for a home office. He sat at the makeshift desk, his laptop open.

  “It’s noon,” I said.

  “Yeah, it is.”

  “You were supposed to wake me. We were going to the hospital.”

  “I talked to Tal, Ryan, and Joe. They all agreed—”

  “My brothers don’t dictate my life!” I clenched my hands into fists.

  “Calm down, honey. We all just thought—”

  “You all just thought!” Ire ripped through me.

  “Baby…”

  “Damn it! I’m so tired of everyone else in the world thinking they know what’s best for me. If you’re going to turn out to be just another Steel brother, Bryce Simpson, I swear, I—”

  “Hey.” He stood and gathered me in his arms. “We just wanted you to get some sleep. Melanie and the baby are fine. Melanie wanted to make sure you got some rest.”

  “So now Mel is making my decisions for me too?”

  “She’s a doctor, Marj. We all take what she says seriously.”

  I was overreacting. I knew I was. My brothers would all take a bullet for me. So would Bryce. I was used to their overbearing behavior. I usually gave it right back to them. Why was it angering me so much now?

  Take a deep breath, Mel would have said.

  Take a deep breath and let it go.

  I drew in lungs full of air, held it for a few seconds, and let it out slowly.

  I was still pissed.

  I pulled away slightly from Bryce and met his sparkling blue gaze. “You should have woken me up.”

  “I’m not going to be sorry for letting you get some much-needed sleep.”

  “God! You’re acting like my brothers.”

  “Your brothers love you, Marj. And you know what? I love you more than they do. More than anyone has ever loved you and ever will. I failed you, yesterday, damn it. Do you have any idea what that does to me? Knowing I couldn’t keep you safe? That someone tried to take you away from me?”

  I was still pissed, but I was starting to see his reasoning. He thought I needed sleep. He was probably right. He wanted to protect me from not getting the sleep he knew I needed.

  “You can’t protect me every minute,” I said gently. “That would drive us both crazy.”

  “You want to know what crazy is?” he said. “Crazy is not knowing where the woman you love is. Crazy is imagining some degenerate doing all kinds of horrible things to her. None of this is your fault, honey. None of it. But I’ll be damned if I’m not going to do everything I can to protect you, whether you like it or not, and that includes making sure you get a good night’s sleep after what you’ve been through.”

  I opened my mouth, but I was all yelled out. He was right, of course. I had needed to sleep, and I was just getting angry to get angry. I’d spent my entire life fighting against my controlling brothers, and now I was fighting against a controlling boyfriend. Except he didn’t want to control me.

  He just wanted to protect me. Make sure I had everything I needed, including a few extra hours of sleep.

  My temper finally settled down. “I love you,” I said. “So much.”

  “I love you too. You hungry?”

  “I am. But let’s just pick something up on the way to the city, okay? I want to see my nephew.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Bryce

  I couldn’t deny her anything. Besides, I wanted to see Joe and his kid too.

  I kissed her cheek. “You’ll have to put on something besides my shirt, then.”

  “Okay. And don’t you follow me, or we’ll never leave the house.” She smiled and left the room.

  She was right about that. I was already hard for her. I always was, and I always would be.

  I’d been in a virtual meeting with my staff most of the morning. Even though I needed to sleep, I still had work to do, and this particular meeting couldn’t wait. I didn’t want to leave Marj alone in the house, though, so luckily I’d been able to do it remotely.

  Talon and Ryan had already gone to the hospital. They were the big bosses and could move around as they pleased. They’d told me I could as well, but they were the Steels, and I wasn’t. I was determined to earn my keep around here.

  I texted Joe quickly to let him know Marj was awake and we’d be on our way soon.

  Then I fingered the business card I’d pulled out of my wallet earlier.

  Dominic James, personal trainer.

  He’d kicked my ass that day at the gym. He knew his stuff.

  He also apparently kidnapped people for a living.

  He hadn’t hurt any of them—other than drugging them and taking them against their will. That in itself was hurtful. But as far as the torturous, violating hurt that my father had inflicted on Colin Morse? Dominic and his cohorts hadn’t done any of that. Still, he’d hurt the woman I loved, and she might suffer long-lasting trauma because of it. Now he was missing. But I’d find him. I’d find him and make him pay.

  Dominic James was most likely Dominic Booker, some relation to Cade Booker and Alessandra Booker.

  The mobile number on his business card had an Iowa area code.

  The phone calls Joe and I had received had also come from Iowa area codes. Different numbers, though, and no word from Mills and Johnson on their origins.

  Couldn’t be all coincidental, though. Could it?

  I picked up my cell phone and dialed Dominic’s number. I didn’t expect to get an answer, and I didn’t.

  This is Dominic James, personal trainer. Please leave your name and number, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.

  “This is Bryce Simpson,” I said into the phone, carefully regulating my voice. I’d never get what I wanted if I threatened to tear him limb from limb. “You and I need to talk. I have information you need.”

  I set my phone down and stared at it for a moment. I was bluffing. I had no information he needed.

  Or did I?

  I knew of his affiliation with Cade Booker, who had disappeared from his law firm the day he’d pepper-sprayed Joe and me. Did his law firm even know about the mafia-style setup in his office? Did they know he regularly armed himself with three weapons? No one had heard anything from him since then. Only a little more than a day had passed. My eyes were still slightly irritated, though I’d forgotten all about it while I was in search of Marjorie. Some things were more important than physical pain.

  Marjorie peered into the room, now dressed in one of my T-shirts and the sweats she’d been wearing earlier.

  “Do you want to stop at the main house and get something else to wear?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “I want to get to the hospital. I’ve been k
ept out of this loop long enough.”

  I wasn’t about to argue with her.

  “He’s beautiful.” Marjorie cuddled her newborn nephew in the NICU.

  The baby was breathing well on his own. Sometimes, when he forgot to breathe, either Joe or Melanie or a nurse tapped his little heel and he started up again. This would get less frequent as he got older, everyone said, and he’d remember to breathe.

  “Good job, man,” I said to Joe.

  Despite everything else going on, Joe couldn’t stop smiling. He was so proud to be a father.

  “If I’d known being a dad was this amazing, I might have done it before now,” he said.

  “It’s the most rewarding thing ever,” I agreed, missing my little son horribly. Knowing he was safe, though—that was worth everything. I’d called my mother earlier and talked to Henry. He babbled in my ear about nothing in particular.

  He was safe. Safe and happy.

  Melanie was still in her hospital room but was being released later. The baby would stay for at least a week, perhaps more, until he’d gained a pound or two and his breathing had completely normalized.

  “She wants to stay here with him,” Joe said. “I booked her a suite at the Carlton.”

  “You staying with her?” I asked.

  “I want to, but she insists I get back and figure out what’s going on.” He sighed. “It breaks my heart to leave them, but she’s right.”

  Marj looked up then. “When are you going to give this little guy a name?”

  Joe sighed again. “I don’t know. We were going to name him Brad, after Dad, but now? Knowing he might have faked his death yet again? I don’t know.”

  “He’s still your dad, no matter what. He meant a lot to you. What’s wrong with naming your son after him?” I stroked the baby’s soft cheek.

  “I don’t know, man. It just doesn’t feel right.”

  “What does Mel think?” Marj asked.

  “She thinks I need to get over myself.” Joe chuckled.

  “You should listen to your wife,” Marj said.

  “I usually do,” Joe said. Then, to me, “Remember our first son pact?”

 

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