Intimate Fear

by D. C. Stone

  She swallowed and sucked in a shaky breath. Each rise of her chest pressed her breasts against him and despite trying to be patient with her, his body twitched beneath his briefs.

  “I’m not made like that,” she whispered.

  He frowned. “Made like what?”

  One slender shoulder lifted in a shrug. “I can’t just give myself to someone. It isn’t about a body. To me, sex is more than physical.”

  His eyes narrowed, and he contemplated. “What makes you think it wouldn’t be anything more than physical for me? We’ve been friends for a long time. Do you believe I’d be willing to risk losing you?”

  “I—I don’t know. It’s not like you’d purposefully do something to hurt me. But I also don’t think you’d be aware of it. I’m not made like the women you’re used to. I just…” She started to pull away, and when he refused to let her go, she struggled against his chest. “I’m not made that way. I’m sorry.”

  He held her fast, pushed the wave of frustration down. “Hold on, give me a moment here to talk.”

  “This is too intimate,” she said, still struggling. “We’re naked and lying in each other’s arms.”

  His lips tightened. “Sweetheart, I just had your nipple in my mouth. That’s pretty damn intimate. We’re not naked. All the most important parts are covered. Relax. Please, give me a few minutes. That’s all I ask.”

  She froze, studied him, and nodded. “Okay,” she said, almost reluctant. Another deep breath from her rubbed her nipples across his chest. Christ!

  He rolled their bodies until she lay on her back, his frame partially atop her. Their legs were still tangled, hips pressed together, but now he could breathe deep. He took a large inhale of air, tried to keep his gaze on her face and not lower. This was a time to be serious, no matter how tempting she was.

  “I don’t think you’re giving me enough credit here.” She opened her mouth, but he cut her off. “Let me finish. I’ve let you speak, now it’s my turn.”

  Her mouth snapped shut.

  “Okay, look, I know this may not be the best circumstance you’ve found yourself in, and I know you may even think this feels wrong. But I don’t. To me, and I’m not real pretty with words, but this, the touch of your skin against mine, feels right. The perfect fit of our bodies, the way my body responded with a consuming demand to have you. I care for you, Brooke. I would never, ever hurt you maliciously. I would never take your trust for granted. You mean more to me than that.”

  “Your words sure are pretty enough.”

  He grinned. “Look, how about we take this one step at a time. I won’t lie to you, I want you beneath me. I want inside you, deep, so much so that you won’t know where I end and you begin. I’ve never wanted someone with the intensity I do you. I will take this as slow as you need, or go as fast as you like, but I want you. And I intend to have you. Do you understand?”

  “Cocky,” she blurted.

  He lifted a brow. “No, confident.”

  Her lips turned down in a sad smile. “Why me?”

  He stared at her, bewildered. “Have you seen yourself? Do you know what you do to me?”

  Her eyes watered and she shook her head. He cursed again and rose from the bed to draw her up with him. She had no choice but to follow as he tugged her inside the bathroom, closed the door, and turned her until she stood, her back to his chest, facing a standing mirror.

  At once, she went to wrap her arms around her body, but he held her fast, urging her wrists to her sides. “No, let me show you.” On full alert again, all the blood must have rushed south because he suddenly had a case of verbal diarrhea, opening up the vulnerability she gave him whenever she was near.

  “Look at your body.” He set a large palm on her bare stomach and pressed her hips back to his. The crease of her ass cradled his engorged cock. Willing his body to wait, he continued his attempt to make her see just what he did. “Your breasts are beautiful, just the right size for my hands.” He ran his palms up the smooth, rounded expanse of her stomach, inch by inch, with slow, deliberate movements.

  “Your nipples, the perfect color. Like sand dollars.” He took the heavy globes in his hands and squeezed. She sucked in a harsh breath, but he didn’t stop. Instead, he plucked at her nipples until air shot out of her lungs with exaggerated gasps. “And when distended, they call for my mouth. Do you know what I want to do right now?”

  She shook her head. “What?” she asked, out of breath.

  “I want to take them into my mouth, suck and bite, see if I can make you come from just playing with your breasts.”

  Her palm squeezed his thigh.

  He dropped his head, ran his nose along the length of her neck until his lips brushed the shell of her ear. “Let me do it, Brooke. Let me show you how much I want you. Give yourself over into my care.”

  He continued to play with her breasts, tugging at the distended peaks until she cried out. “I don’t know if I can.”

  Her hips pressed into his and he hissed. “Sweetheart, that’s all I’ll ask of you. We’re going to do this slowly. You will trust me enough to give yourself completely before I take you. For now, I’m content to do as I’ve asked. Say yes.”

  Hooded eyes met his in the mirror and she gave a minute nod. It was all he needed.

  Instead of turning her toward him, he rounded her until he stood before her, the mirror at his back. He wanted her to witness the wild abandon he was about to put on her face, needed her to see him on her body, get used to the sight. He planned to be there for a long time to come, and it was time she got accustomed to it. He dropped to his knees and wrapped his palms around her hips, urging her closer.

  “Watch me. Watch us,” he commanded.

  Without waiting for a response, he took her breast in his mouth…and groaned. She tasted sugary, like honey wrapped in cinnamon, almost reminiscent of waffle cakes. He tugged, nipped, and sucked the tightened bud, using his free hand to play with the other. She gasped above his head, but her hands, dear, sweet Lord, her hands pressed him to her and scraped through his hair. She cried out, the sound like music to his ears, an erotic song just for him.

  He took turns working each nipple and massaging her breasts. He also paid attention to what she liked, did it again to hear her cry out, and took note of it for when he’d do it again. Because there was going to be a next time.

  He glanced up. Her eyes were hooded, mouth parted. A sensual fairy sprite beckoning.

  “Look at us in the mirror,” he growled before ravishing her skin again. Like a starving man hell-bent on taking as much as she would give, he couldn’t get enough. She glanced up and when he sucked her nipple in deep—and hard—she tossed her head back and shouted in passion.

  He fought to keep his hands on her hips as she rode out the orgasm. Keening cries filled the air, his name on her sweet lips. Liquid seeped from his cock and he sucked in a harsh breath, released her from his mouth, and buried his head between the valley of her cleavage. He was strung so tight he would snap at the slightest touch. He struggled for control and willed her not to speak. She apparently didn’t hear his silent request.

  “Dwayne?”

  His hands tightened to fists at her waist. “Give me a minute, please.”

  She rubbed a palm down the back of his head, and each damn move reminded him of how close he was, yet how far. “Brooke,” he cautioned.

  “What is it? Are you hurt?” She took his face in her palms. He stared up at her, letting the lust, frustration, and need show.

  “Sweet sprite,” he warned, “I’m trying to stick by my word, so I’ll give you a fair chance now. In ten seconds, I’m going to get off this floor, turn on the shower, and shed these too damn tight boxers. If you’re still in here, I’m dragging you under the water with me and will end up having my way between your sweet thighs. I know you said you’re not ready, so I’m giving you a fair amount of warning to escape.”

  In less than five, she was out the door.

  Chapter Sevent
een

  Back in the car, lush, green scenery rolled by in a haze of blurred shapes. Brooke took in the pretty slopes of hillside landscapes, the changing colors of fall, bright bursts of red, orange, and yellow. It was far out of reach, existing in a separate plane of the world.

  A beautiful sight, but her mind was caught in this morning’s scene in the hotel bathroom. Never had she experienced such pleasure, and most certainly not from a man touching her. He had done more than that, hadn’t he? He’d worshiped her chest as if a drug to an addict, lapped in loving caresses with his tongue and sucked with erotic delight on her nipples. Her toes curled inside her Uggs. She hadn’t known an orgasm could be achieved that way, simply from attention on her breasts, and the crest had taken her by surprise when it broke.

  It hadn’t come on fast and hard, but instead the peak built slow, like hot lava flowing over the crown of its mountain peak. She had been lost in the mind-numbing pleasure, crying out with wild abandon, uncaring of who heard or what she said. Something she never thought possible. More so, her reaction to Dwayne, and how much more she wanted, had shocked her to her core.

  If his mouth produced such results when touching one part of her, what would happen if his focus were directed across her entire body?

  Yet, wasn’t this what Dwayne did? Give pleasure and take it? Albeit, he had not demanded or expected anything in return. No, he had given her a short warning and allowed her to flee.

  And, did she ever escape. It wasn’t about the promise he held in his eyes, or even the principle erotic threat. But more about the rush of feelings screaming through her, the very ones she had been trying to protect herself from.

  She didn’t take sex as a casual affair. The blast of affection blindsided her, scared the shit outta her, and snapped her out of the haze he brought her to.

  Jesus—she closed her eyes—can I do this?

  Brooke focused on the slight rocking of the car, the soft music playing, and the whoosh of wind outside. Everything seemed magnified, colors brighter, the gentle rocking of the vehicle more pronounced. She was very, very aware of him, drawn to Dwayne like a magnet. She was all too cognizant of the exact spot where he sat, of the small car they were trapped inside, and of the still-viable sexual tension screaming through the air.

  His scent, woodsy and raw, filled her lungs. His presence, larger than life, dominant without trying, demanded she acknowledge him.

  “A penny for your thoughts?” he asked.

  She sighed, turned and focused on his profile. A sprinkle of light stubble lined the square of his jaw. A sight outside of this normally perfected man who wore his impeccable suits like armor. And his lush lips, so full and plush, brought back the memories of this morning and held her rapt attention.

  “Nothing. Worried about Hailey,” she lied, too wrapped in this man. No need for him to know how much control he had.

  He glanced over and smiled. “We’re going to do what we can to make sure she is found.”

  She blinked. “We?”

  He nodded, then shifted in his seat and took her hand. An act so new and unfamiliar, it took her a moment to focus on what he said. “Yeah, I talked to Trent last night. He’s done some research and if we confirm Hailey is up here, this matter will move into the FBI’s jurisdiction. Moving a minor across state lines is a felony, falls under title eighteen of the United States Code. Not only that,” he added, “but if Hailey has been mixed up with what we suspect she has, then there is going to be a whole plethora of statutes involved, and it could end up being a huge bust.” He gave her palm a squeeze. “We’re going to get her, though.”

  She swallowed and forced down the bile burning in her throat as Dwayne voiced the fears she had been thinking. “So Trent’s going to come up?”

  He focused on the road. “It’s very likely. Again, I need to verify either she’s here first, or get enough evidence to suspect she’s present. Right now I can only assume she is because that’s where Jaxon is, and that’s where his phone has pinged. I’m not acting as a law enforcement officer here, sweetheart. There’s only so much I’ll be able to do. We need to be smart, otherwise, we could lose her forever. I know you’re jumping at the chance to get her back, but I’m going to ask you to trust me with this. If I ask you to do something, you need to have faith it’s the right decision.”

  She frowned. “What aren’t you telling me? And who else would Trent bring with him? What’s going on?”

  He pushed back on the seat and shifted again. She glanced down and realized what must have been bothering him. His handgun, black and lethal, sat at the small of his back, digging into muscle. Before she could offer to help, he spoke.

  “Sex trafficking of children is something hard to keep track of. They move these children via highly secretive schedules. In addition, when the first sign of a cop starts sniffing around, the entire operation relocates overnight. Under the statute, even if Hailey hadn’t been moved over state lines, it still would have been a felony. The penalties are severe for those caught, which is why the ones who normally operate these kinds of schemes are quick to move if they even suspect they are being watched.” He glanced over at her. “The sentence is a minimum of fifteen years. Not only that, but the defendants in these cases are usually required to pay restitution to the families, as well as payment for the medical treatment needed. All combined, makes this type of operation highly suspicious of outsiders.”

  Riveted by his words, she grasped his hand and didn’t realize how hard she’d squeezed until his thumb traced the skin. She relaxed, fighting to keep her emotions bottled.

  “Most times,” he continued, “the offenders of this crime—the pimps, traffickers, or bosses—will use drugs, hardcore ones, to control and push the minors to either submit or give in to having sex. They do this not only to control the child in the beginning through the use of drug-induced hazes, but then later when it’s so painful to go without the drug, the child will do whatever they need just to get the next hit.”

  She sucked in a sharp breath and it hitched. Her vision grew hazy. “So you’re saying if Hailey…”

  His lips thinned and he nodded. “You need to be prepared for anything. If she’s involved in what we believe, she could very well have drugs in her system and will possibly have developed a dependency to one.”

  “What,” she began and had to clear her throat against the tightness. “What kinds of drugs?” How had this happened? Her sweet, beautiful daughter caught in such an ugly world and changed forever wasn’t something she ever thought would be possible.

  He winced, then shook his head. “It’s not pretty. It’s going to be hard. I won’t lie. But we’re looking at possibly heroine, crack, meth, the list can go on and on, but they are all hardcore.

  “Outside of that, you’ll see most of these operations either ran out of a house or nightclub. The place where we’re heading looks to be a club. It hasn’t been in business for too long, only eight months or so, but has been on the RISP’s radar for about a month.”

  Hailey’s future and her well-being flashed through Brooke’s mind. If she was caught in what they thought she was, her daughter would never be the same. The lost innocence made her want to cry, scream, and punch at the unfairness of it all.

  She drew her head back. “Wait, you know all of this just from a phone call?”

  He looked over and winked. “Several phone calls, sweetheart. It’s good to know people.”

  How could he wink when her world crumbled around her? “Who else?”

  “My brothers. This is what we do, and they are the other part of ‘we’ I’m talking about.”

  Her world brightened just a bit at the mention of the rest of the Gonzalez tribe. It’d been years since she’d seen any of them. “Oh my God, it’s been forever since I’ve seen them. How are they?” she asked, memories of each different boy rolling through her head, all different, but held together by a strong bond—family.

  His lips curved, something he always did when speaking of his s
iblings. “Well hell, you’re talking a clan here, Brooke. You’re going to have to be more specific. Which one?”

  She squeezed his hand, taking in his strength even though he probably didn’t realize it. “All of them. Please, talk to me about them. Take my mind off this nightmare.”

  He looked over, seeming to measure her for a few moments before returning his attention to the road. He flexed his fingers in hers. “If I could take this all away, I would. You know that, right?”

  She swallowed, forcing down the knot in her throat. “I know.”

  Dwayne took a deep breath and let the air out in a measured exhale. “All right, let’s start at the top, then. Chris is still in Afghanistan on some deep undercover mission. I don’t know exactly where, as he couldn’t reveal it, but I do know the country. He’s been ghost for a few months now, and the only reason we know he’s still alive is he sends Ma e-mails. They consist of a few sentences, but he checks in with regular intervals because he knows she worries.”

  “What does ghost mean?”

  He licked his lips. “Deep black ops. Really undercover, so much so the government has blacked out his file.”

  “Ah, I get it now. Ghost. Huh, cute.”

  He arched a brow and glanced over again. “I don’t know about cute, but it definitely gets attention.” He smiled and turned his concentration back to the road. “Mike just got assigned to the Westchester office for the Secret Service. He’s settling in and seems to be running some line on the Ukrainian mafia. Don’t ask me what it entails, but it sounds all kinds of complicated.

  “Then you have Matt, who’s still with the DEA. He’s been doing bust after bust at JFK Airport, pulling in a rash of cocaine coming in from Latin America. He’s recently gotten himself a girlfriend, and the rest of us have a pool to see how long it lasts.”

  He grinned, a wicked kind of smile, and she laughed despite the circumstances. “You all are awful.”