“Better?” he asked.
“Better,” was all I managed to say.
He put his hand on my face. His dark eyes still carried that look of turmoil. “Never again.”
He turned away and got on the bike. I got behind him.
Never again what?
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
We drove for six more hours, a blur of cactus, gas stations, dirt, and road signs, until we reached a town called Lago Vista in Texas, somewhere North of Austin from what I gathered from the signs. The sun had already retreated, and I was shivering to the bone, though it really wasn’t cold outside. The autumn air was actually balmy and tropical.
Paolo pulled up to a modern, two-story, white house surrounded by trees and perched on a small hill at the edge of a large lake.
I looked around at the other homes off in the distance. “Is this the safe house?” I asked. I had imagined another rustic cabin hidden in the woods, or a broken-down old ranch house like the one where I’d been held captive.
He bobbed his head but didn’t look at me. “Come on.” He went to the side gate and reached over to pop it open. Although it was dark outside, the exterior was well lit, and I could see that the home was huge. I walked into the backyard and immediately noticed how the lights of the houses on the other side danced and sparkled in the early evening waves. I took a deep breath and savored the calmness. Paolo had taken me to the perfect place to lick my wounds and come to terms with what had just happened.
“Are you hungry?” Paolo’s hands gently squeezed my shoulders from behind.
“No,” I whispered. Food was the last thing on my mind.
“A bath then.”
“It’s beautiful,” I said, still looking out across the hypnotic ripples. “Thank you.”
“Come inside,” he said dryly.
I followed quietly, and began to wonder what was going on in his head. Maybe he thought the angry girl from back at the gas station was about to make an appearance and give him a bitter taste of her mind. But that girl was exhausted and unsure of what to do or how to feel.
The interior of the home was just as large and impressive as one might imagine. Everything—furniture, floors, and walls—were shades of white. Pristine. He led me upstairs and showed me the large master bedroom and bath. The steaming jet tub was already half filled.
“I had the service stock everything. There are toothbrushes and supplies in the cabinet. Extra towels and a robe are there, too. I can wash what you have and take you to buy clothes in the morning, but the robe will have to do for tonight.” He shut the door behind him and left me standing in the enormous, bright bathroom. Alone.
I shut off the water and stared at the tub. I didn’t want to soak. I didn’t want to be alone. I wanted to get clean. I wanted answers.
My mind wouldn’t stop spinning with questions, trying to work out the problems. I wanted to know why he’d let me go, and how the hell he’d found me. I wanted to know if I was truly safe now. I wanted to know where my father was and if my mother was okay.
Damn it. I’ve had it.
I came to the conclusion that their rules about not sharing information didn’t apply to me anymore. I’d almost lost my life going along with “the deal.” Their deal sucked, and it was time to push my way out of this godforsaken rabbit hole.
I quickly showered and cleaned myself up. I burst from the bathroom in a white robe, ready for that rant I’d been holding inside.
Paolo sat on the edge of the bed, wearing a plain white T-shirt and jeans, facing the bathroom door, like he’d been expecting this moment.
“How could you let me go?” I asked.
He didn’t react or move; he simply stared with his cold, dark eyes.
“Answer me, goddamn it!” I screamed.
“You know why,” he replied in a low, quiet voice, “and my saying it won’t change anything.”
“I’m not talking about the fact that you thought you were following orders. I’m talking about you letting me go when I begged you not to!”
“I know.” His gaze was cold and distant, but I knew there was more going on inside that head of his, and I needed to know what it was.
“I want to hear you say it,” I seethed.
“Say what?” he said in that deep, slow, thickly accented voice. “That I’m sorry? That I should’ve known? I don’t need to waste my time stating the obvious.”
“Not that. I want to hear you say it was a mistake to care more about that job of yours and pleasing my father than you did about me. I want to hear you promise you’ll never do it again. That you understand some things are more important than following orders. Or are you too much of a coward? Too afraid to break the rules, even when it’s the right thing to do? Huh? Tell me. I’d like to know.”
He opened his mouth, but didn’t say anything.
“I see,” I said. “Then you get what you deserve. I just hope that hollow, dark hole you call a life doesn’t swallow you up in your sleep.”
He stood and walked over to me, that same look of turmoil I’d seen earlier percolating in the depths of his eyes. “It already did. The moment I let you go.” He cupped my face with both hands. “I knew it was a mistake. Even before I found out it was a trap. But I let you go because I believed you were better off. I failed to keep my mother alive. I failed to keep my ex alive. I couldn’t stop thinking you’d be next. And when I got the call from your father, telling me they’d taken you, I knew I was being punished for being such a coward, for being unable to let go of the past. I shouldn’t have let you go.”
He kissed me with desperation, holding me to his body. I didn’t kiss him back. I don’t know why. Maybe I was waiting for something to happen inside my chest. That warm, gooey, melting feeling that I’d experienced when he’d kissed me before. Instead, nothing happened. I felt numb and empty inside.
Sensing his kiss wasn’t welcome, he pulled back and sighed. “Just know, I would have sold my soul to get you back.”
“Bullshit! You were more pissed about being tricked. You and your badass ego couldn’t stand knowing someone beat you. You’re just like my father—can’t stand to fail.”
Paolo had a frustrated, wounded look on his face. “I didn’t give a fuck about that. I wanted you back. That was the only thing that mattered.”
I sat down on the bed and closed my eyes. I realized I was lashing out at him. “I need a moment.”
“Take all the time you need. I’ll be sleeping in the other room.” He left with heavy footsteps.
Exhausted, I lay back on the bed. Calm down. Calm down. You’re safe now. You’re safe…But was I? Before, when I first met Paolo, I felt like my sanity was at stake. Then it evolved into a question of my physical well-being. Now, everything felt at risk. Mind, body, and soul. There wasn’t one single piece left unscathed.
You can get through this, Dakota. You’ll find a way.
I could only hope I was right.
I don’t recall falling asleep, but when I heard Paolo scream, I landed on the floor.
Shit. I held my breath and listened, expecting to hear a struggle. There was nothing but an eerie silence blanketing the house.
I unplugged the lamp on the nightstand—a square, stainless steel thing with sharp corners—and tiptoed into the hallway. Paolo’s bedroom door was wide open. With the orange glow of the clock on the nightstand, I saw him lying there in his boxer briefs, blankets and sheets tossed to the floor. He grumbled and twitched his arms.
I released a breath. He must’ve been having a nightmare.
I sat down next to him and looked at the troubled expression, creased brow and lids pushed tightly together.
“Paolo?” I whispered. “Paolo?” I shook him gently by the shoulder. “Wake up. You’re having a bad dream.”
His eyes flew open, and I found myself pinned beneath his large body, his fist raised in the air.
“It’s me!” I screamed and turned my head to the side, expecting to get pummeled.
He fro
ze. “Christ, Dakota. What are you doing?”
“I…I…heard you scream,” I said.
“So you came to rescue me?”
“I guess.”
He rolled off onto his back, panting. “Shit. I could’ve killed you.”
“With your fist? No. But it would’ve hurt.”
“There’s a gun on the nightstand,” he clarified. “You’re lucky I didn’t reach for it.”
“Oh. Call me lucky then.” We lay next to each other in silence, several moments passing. “What were you dreaming about?” I finally asked.
“You.”
“Was I staring at your ass again?”
He laughed. “I wish.”
“Then?”
“Your father called,” he said.
“Did he threaten to kill you for touching me?” I asked.
“Yes. I mean, no. I mean, he really called.”
“I thought we couldn’t use a cell phone,” I said, wondering about the safe house “no communication with the outside” rule.
“I’m sure he used precautions, but he needed me to know he’d be here in the morning to take you.”
My heart sank. So this was the part where he’d let me go all over again.
“I quit,” he added. “And I told him I love you.”
His words repeated inside my head like an echo that didn’t fade.
“You told him…” I swallowed. “You love me?”
Paolo’s hand reached out and grabbed mine. “Yes. And he told me that if I lay a hand on you, he’d break me in two.”
“But Paolo—”
“I told him he can go fuck himself. He’ll have to pry you from my cold, dead hands.”
Paolo wanted to fight for me. That was all I needed to hear. I rolled on top of him and kissed him with everything I had.
He pushed me back. “Dakota, I think we need to talk—”
“Now or never, Paolo. Decide. Because I’m not going to offer myself again.”
“Now. Yes, now.”
I kissed him hard and untied my robe, letting my naked body cover his. He groaned and rolled on top of me, settling himself between my thighs. I immediately felt his hot, hard flesh pressing against me. Every nerve ending in my body instantly pulsed with sensual waves of heat. It was nothing like before, when I’d simply wanted him to satisfy my lust. This came from another place, deep inside my soul. I wanted to lose myself in him and feel his body connect to mine.
Paolo slid his hand between us and stroked the heated fold between my legs. “God, Dakota. You’re so wet, so hot.” He dipped a finger inside, and I gasped. “I’ve never wanted anyone like I want you.” He plunged another finger inside. “To make you come.”
He covered my mouth with his, and continued stroking me with his hand, but that was not what I wanted.
I gently pushed his hand away. “You don’t need to do that,” I whispered in his ear.
Paolo eagerly took the cue and slid down his boxers. He reached over to the nightstand drawer, and I heard the swift deployment of a condom. I was grateful he’d had the house “stocked,” but even more grateful when he returned his mouth to mine, continuing the frantic kiss. I felt him position his thick head at my entrance, and all I could think of was how incredibly whole I felt. Like a missing piece of my life had slipped into place, giving me the strength to face whatever would come next. I had Paolo. And I loved him.
He pushed inside me with one steady thrust, driving himself deep. I gasped from the pain, but the erotic pulsing tension, the need to release it, kept me from wanting him to stop.
His sensual assault repeated as he pulled out almost completely and thrust into me again, releasing a deep, masculine groan. Each time he did this, I felt a sharp delicious pain push my body to the brink of an explosion. But I didn’t want it to end so quickly. I wanted it to last forever. His smooth olive skin and hard muscles working over my body, his thick muscular arms straining as he lifted his chest away so he could watch himself plunging inside me, his dark hair falling over his eyes as he watched me taking him in, it was better than I could have ever fantasized.
The sinful tension coiled tightly, and I knew my body was but a few hard strokes away from climaxing.
“Paolo,” I panted.
“Come for me, Dakota.” He pushed his hips sharply forward, driving the air from my lungs. He thrust once again. “I want to watch you.” And again. “Come for me.”
His raw, sexual words pushed me over the edge, and the walls seemed to crash down around me. My body exploded with every ounce of the pent-up heat I had for this gorgeous man as he came with one final, deep thrust. He groaned loudly in a sexy, animalistic sort of way that was so purely male it sparked goose bumps.
Several amazingly lucid moments passed where I felt like we were the only two people in existence, our pulses thrumming in unison.
“I love you,” he said in a gravelly voice, and slowly began rocking into me, wringing out every last shudder.
“I love you, too,” I finally whispered back after gaining my breath.
He dropped onto his elbows and kissed me with a slow, sated laziness. Once again, I don’t remember falling asleep, but somehow in my dreams, I remember thinking that when I woke up, I’d be the happiest, sorest woman on the planet.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The unwelcome cell phone rang sometime during the early hours, ripping me away from the deepest sleep I’d had in months.
I cracked open an eye and stared at the thing. My exhausted mind didn’t exactly register where I was, but the sound of Paolo’s breath in my ear and the feel of his warm, naked body snuggled close to mine convinced me I was still dreaming.
I flopped my hand on top of the offending device and looked at the screen. “Who’s four five seven?” I gently nudged Paolo with my elbow.
He grumbled and turned over, revealing his perfectly tanned, gorgeous, broad back. I looked down, and there it was. His ass.
It was quite possibly the nicest ass known to creation. Round and hard, the same deep olive skin as the rest of him. I sighed cheerfully and silenced the phone. Whoever was calling would have to wait. I snuggled my bare breasts again his back and began massaging that sinfully perfect part of his body he’d managed to entice me with for so very, very long.
You can run, but you can’t hide. “You shall taunt me no more.”
“Are you looking at my ass?” Paolo mumbled.
“Yes! Yes, I am. And it’s even better than I imagined.” Then again, so was the rest of him.
“And are those your gorgeous naked breasts pushed against my back.”
“Yes. Yes, they are.” I grinned, and then slid my hand from his naked, round backside to his front. My fingertips found exactly what I’d hoped for: a large, thick hard piece of Paolo. “Is that your penis?”
He turned over and rolled on top of me, pinning me underneath him. “Yes. And it wants to do very bad things to you.”
The throbbing heat between my legs returned with a vengeance.
I smiled up at his beautiful stubble-framed lips. They were full and exotic and just as seductive as the rest of him.
“Such as?” I asked.
He raised his brows and grinned before reaching for another condom. Like the well-trained man that he was, he swiftly applied it and returned to me.
“I’m waiting,” I said, “for a list of those bad things.”
He began rubbing his steely-hard warmth over my sore but needy flesh. “I want to watch you moan with pleasure as I shamelessly fuck you.”
“What? You dirty, dirty boy. I thought you loved me? Or is that how a big, scary man talks to a woman?”
He laughed. “Big and scary? Well, I am big.”
“Yes, yes you are,” I agreed cheerfully.
“And you should be scared. Because I like to fuck in the morning.” He kissed me quickly. “I save the lovemaking for the afternoon and evenings.”
I shrugged. “Sounds good to me.”
His smiled melt
ed away, and he looked at me with utter adoration. I felt his love, now that it wasn’t hidden by a thick wall of scar tissue and guarded by the ghosts from his past. “I don’t know what I would have done if anything happened to you.”
I touched his beautiful lips with my fingertips. “Don’t think about that. You saved me. We’re together. End of story.”
He bent his head and kissed me softly, but when his hips moved forward, the penetration was anything but gentle. He slid all the way in, sending a jolt of pleasure rocketing through my pelvis. I lifted my hips, driving him deeper.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said, pumping himself in a slow, steady rhythm. His one hand moved to my breast and kneaded gently. “And these are so perfect.”
“Not as beautiful as that ass.” I kissed him deeply and grabbed those two perfect mounds, savoring the way they flexed and hardened against my palms.
Feeling that familiar tension build rapidly, I urged him to move deeper and faster. His pace quickened, and he slammed his hips against mine, bringing me almost to the tipping point. He suddenly pulled out and flipped me onto my side.
“Not yet,” he said.
He slid inside me from behind and began moving slowly, deliberately, pushing himself as deeply as my body would allow. I felt the tip of his shaft press against the most delicious spot, as if it were plucking the erotic chords of every female inch of me.
“Oh my God. What are doing?” I panted.
“Fucking you.”
No. He was doing so much more than that. I thought I might go insane with the relentlessly slow, exquisitely torturous pace. “God Paolo, please finish me off.”
He ignored my request, his hips continuing to piston, and just when I thought I might scream from needing it so badly, he reached around and began massaging my swollen bud. My body instantly ignited, and I finally did scream. Paolo’s loud, masculine groan followed.
After a few moments of lying there, catching our breath, Paolo withdrew and pulled me tightly to his body, wrapping his arms around me.
Fate Book (a New Adult Novel) Page 18
