by Beth Rhodes
She should have kept her mouth shut. She’d shared too much. People weren’t really interested in the details. They liked to know she was okay. Even in her own family. Silently protective. The therapist had helped. But once, she wanted someone close to let her talk, especially after all these years when the thought of it didn’t send her into a fetal position.
She would like to talk.
She would like to kiss Tan without thinking about Gabriel.
She wanted to lie beneath him, feel the weight of him on top of her, and put that time of her life to rest.
For good!
She could stinking be the strong person everyone else saw.
Tan pounded against her window.
She jumped, which really pissed her off.
“I’m not leaving you out here, so let’s go.” Then he opened the door for her, keeping a subtle distance. Then he got on his phone as they went down the steps to his front door. He checked the peep hole and opened the door. “Hey Malcolm. You available tonight?”
Liz perked up, and she watched him. Her jacket came off, and she hung it on a hook behind the door. Then she toed off her sparkly flats. Her heart was beginning to pound, though. What was he doing? Leaving her?
Because she’d flipped out over Gabriel?
Something wasn’t right, and she had a funny feeling the meeting with Gabriel was at the center of it.
Deep-seated resentment sprang to life inside her. People treated her differently when they found out. When they knew what she’d been through. She’d thought he was different. He’d had her back since day one, never showing any signs he thought she was less than. Until now…
She’d felt the resentment before with other dates. Damn it. And she’d never had anyone like Tan to feel frustrated over. Every other guy so far hadn’t been worth the agitation.
Tan went to the kitchen and put water into the coffee maker. He rinsed the cup she’d been using earlier and pulled down the bag of sugar. And then he reached even farther into the cabinet and pulled out a glass bowl that had a little lid on top of it. He set it on the counter, got a spoon, and scooped sugar into it.
She’d lost track of his conversation and was surprised to find him staring at her.
“You don’t need to leave me,” she whispered, suddenly realizing, he wanted to give her space, because he thought the confrontation with Gabriel had left her vulnerable.
Because, deep down, he cared.
Liz pressed her lips closed and took a deep breath.
He looked like he wanted to say something, but then he merely touched her shoulder and turned away.
Shit. “No.” Liz pressed her lips together and narrowed her eyes. The frustration inside let loose. “No. I won’t let you.”
Tan’s mouth dropped open—surprise.
She scowled at him. Stupid man. Stupid life.
Stupid Gabriel Sands.
“You want to talk about it?” he asked.
“I don’t want to talk,” she ground out. She was touchable. A man didn’t need to walk on eggshells around her. And he didn’t need to leave, either. “I don’t need commitment from you. I don’t want you to make promises you can’t keep. I just need—” She was sick of living in the shadow of the past. “To be touched.”
“Are you going to think about him?”
“No thinking. No fear. No regrets.”
***
She was waving a white flag.
Giving him the go-ahead to change everything.
He’d been tested, almost failed once, but seeing her with Gabriel, seeing the hurt on her face to hear he was a changed man...that pierced something inside of him. There was an injustice there he hadn’t expected to feel.
The walls he’d built crumbled under the weight of her admissions.
No fear. No regrets.
She wanted freedom. And he wanted to give it to her in the worst way.
Her hands came up and gripped his shoulders. She didn’t say a word when she leaned into him and took his mouth. He groaned and let her take. Her arms circled his neck. The soft curves of her body pressed against him.
His hands settled at her waist and felt the slight intake of her breath. “Liz,” he said, breaking the last bit of wall holding him back from needing her like he’d never needed anyone else.
The heat of her warmed him, and he slid his hands up, framed the delicate circle of her ribs and found the soft underside of her breasts with his thumbs. He moaned against the agony cutting sharply through his conscience.
“Please don’t stop. Please don’t make me beg.” Liz palmed his face, her fingers trembling against his cheeks, and forced him to look in her eyes. “Help me finish this, protect me here, right now, in this place where what’s inside me is slowly taking my life away.” She opened her mouth and her tongue captured every starving need inside of him. He sucked her bottom lip into the warm recess of his mouth then kissed a trail down her jawline to the soft skin of her ear.
Her hands found purchase at his throat, unbuttoning his shirt. Not slow, not seductive or even a little bit hesitant. Off his shoulders, the soft cotton fell to the floor and then her hands were on his chest, lightly tracing her fingertips against the hair on his chest. She nicked his nipple, sending basic need to the forefront.
He stepped back—
She groaned.
He held out a hand, took hers when she reached for him, and led her out of the kitchen and down the hallway. She walked tall, confidence covering her. Like royalty. Like a woman on a mission. Like the business owner she was… strong, dedicated, resilient.
Liz walked by him, at the last minute, pulling him through the door with her by grabbing his belt.
His unexpected laugh broke the tension. She grinned, losing her shirt first.
Tan’s breath shortened. Her jeans rode low on her tight stomach. Her breasts sat high, her nipples puckered as he looked at them. Blood rushed south.
And then she slid her slacks down those long legs.
Tan reached for his own pants, undoing the belt, the button, and zipper.
She stroked his ego, her gaze never leaving his body, starting at his head and going lower. “Are you afraid?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Being with you is the scariest thing I’ve ever done,” he said, contradicting his words. “You draw me out. You make me want more than I should have.”
“Tonight is mine…and yours.” She branded him with kisses, along the ridge of his collarbone to the supple flesh of his shoulder. And then she turned and pushed him back onto his bed and stood over him, not like a spoiled princess. Shit, he’d been wrong. She was a fucking goddess.
He hooked a hand through his black tighties and shoved them down.
She snagged her own panties, dragged them down her legs, and stepped out of them, one leg at a time. He had to sit up, had to run his hands up them, and trace his fingers up those long tendons at the back of her knee. She shivered, falling into him, and he rolled her beneath him.
She nipped at his neck and rolled back to the top.
He slowed, to look up into her eyes, to make sure she hadn’t lost the drive. His heart, God—his heart, he didn’t want to hurt her, but a spark of rebellion shone against the blue of her eyes. She leaned in, her breasts flattening against his chest as she began a slow ride against his stomach. “No second thoughts.”
Tan grabbed her wrist and pulled her down on top of him, rolled to his side and cradled her neck. “This is between you and me.”
Her lips trembled. “Make me forget him.”
***
Tan did, with a touch more powerful than the hurt of the past, he took her up and over this hurdle—her F-U to him. Tan caressed and kneaded, kissing her from the top of her head to her very toes. He rolled, securing her to the bed with the weight of him.
When her heart pounded this time, it wasn’t in fear or uncertainty.
No. Now it was her turn to take the reins.
Liz trailed her fingernails up the gentle sl
ope of his rear end. She opened her legs and wrapped them around his waist so that he settled against her. He rose on his arms, pressing against her, and the subtle movement sent a zing of heat through her.
He kissed her then, tucking his legs beneath her hips, and rode her clit. Pressure built, intensified until she was writhing beneath him. His kisses circled first one nipple and then the other, and then his mouth moved lower. She moaned and wrapped her arms around him, and he wrangled them into the covers, every touch of skin on skin and sheets on skin heightened her anticipation.
“God, you’re so soft.” His skin was warm, smooth and touching her everywhere. She wanted more, but could have easily stayed like this, wrapped in his arms, in the circle of his body.
He kissed her: her lips, her jaw, her shoulder… she could hardly catch her breath.
Leaving her bare for a moment he rolled away, stopping on his back so he jutted straight up.
She swallowed. He was big. Her hand went of its own accord and touched.
“Whoa,” he jerked to a sit. And when she quickly withdrew, he grabbed her hand and brought it back. “Didn’t mean to scare you. Just…don’t want this to end too quickly.”
He wrapped her hand around him, an invitation to let her explore.
“Condom,” he explained as he reached back into his drawer again and pulled out the small packet. The ache between her legs was an insistent throb. He heated her with a look. Drove her with his words. Protected her with his mind.
“Ice Bitch, my ass,” she murmured and took him. Have mercy. She draped herself against him and marked him, with teeth and nails and long, slow kisses against the soft skin of his neck. She melted against him, slid against the length of him as an orgasm built inside of her, and then finally, he filled her, fitting tightly inside her slick, warm flesh.
And she rode him, letting her eyes drift shut, letting the frustration go and letting this new freedom in.
He tightly clasped her hips, thrusting as she said his name, over and over again. He pumped into her, driving her faster and faster. Her muscles tightened around him, drew him up against her womb. So close to coming, close— “Tancredo,” she cried.
He swelled against her walls, tightening their connection, and sat up to take her breast into his mouth. His hands wrapped around her ribcage. He pushed her back onto the comforter and then drove into her.
She gasped as her bundle of nerves exploded, her eyes flying open. He lifted her hips, tilting her, and her eyes slid closed…as the frenzy of completion washed through her.
~ 24 ~
Claire thought she heard the baby cry and rolled to her side. Being a mother had changed a lot of things, especially her sleeping habits. She moaned a little, feeling an extra element of pain in her neck. Her feet hurt, too. She’d worked out yesterday, but this was ridiculous.
She thought she’d gotten over the pain of working out. Not that she couldn’t lose a few more pounds…or thirty, but she was getting stronger. For the first time in years, her life was in her control and she was doing something she could be proud of.
Claire sat up, rose half way to sitting, and was jerked back. She frowned sending a shard of pain through her head. Her heart pounded as she took another breath. Bleach. Too much of it. The smell made her gag and forced her into a fit of coughing.
Slowly, she opened her eyes to darkness. She blinked a few times. She wasn’t at home, but she’d arrived home after picking up Jacob. Someone had approached her…
With a wheelbarrow? She fought the fog of her memory.
Claire tugged at the restraints on her hands. Shapes took form in front of her eyes. A basement, covered windows. Shelves along one wall. A set of steps up to a door where a strip of light broke the darkness at the bottom.
“Hey!” she yelled, immediately cut off by more pain. Her side was on fire. She whimpered, sure of a broken rib. A tear slid down her cheek. Had they taken Jacob?
Had her greatest fear been realized, Jacob’s dad finally coming back to claim him? He wouldn’t bother with official avenues. No. He’d take what he wanted. Like he had before.
Claire rolled as much to her side as possible and turned to put her feet to the floor. The ties behind her head had enough give, allowing her to move, and she sat as best she could, leaning over her knees, which relieved the pain in her side.
“Hey!” she tried again. “You can’t have him, Dirk. Hello—?”
At the top of the steps the door opened and a single bulb clicked on. A woman walked down the steps, and Claire wished she’d kept her mouth shut—not for the first time, either. Her mouth had always gotten her in trouble. As a matter of fact, it wasn’t even the first time she wondered if opening her mouth meant the difference between life and death.
But, as she looked into eyes as dark as night, panic rushed through her. “Who are you? What did you do with Jacob?”
The whites of the woman’s eyes glowed eerily. “Your turn to pay.”
“Pay? Pay for what?”
Too late, Claire noticed the woman was carrying a small syringe. She had nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. The restraints at her wrists held her against the bare mattress, and even though her legs were unfettered, she hadn’t the strength to use them.
Drugged. “No—”
The woman stabbed the syringe through her jeans, into her thigh.
The glow of those eyes seemed to brighten with each passing moment until they turned a funny shade of the lightest colored brown.
“Don’t. Please…”
The shakes came first followed by the harsh bile of nausea. Her vision blurred as she watched the woman walk back up the stairs. Her head swam, her heart pounded, and she lay as still as possible, hoping for the black of unconsciousness.
***
He’d forced himself to sleep for a few hours as the night wound down. And he forced himself to do so with Liz in his arms, even when it scared the crap out of him.
She was incredibly strong and strong-willed. Facing her biggest fear tonight, taking on a new business in the few short years, opening up to him. Hell, trusting him.
She’d been a victim and overcome, was still overcoming.
He thought of his brother. Also a victim. Only his brother hadn’t known how to fight it, how to get around the bad to make a new life for himself. Had he been weak? Or merely defeated by a stronger entity?
Tan would never know, could never understand what had happened at the end when Tom had taken his own life. He had to wonder if he somehow failed his brother. Had the home life his mother provided lacked support, lacked the discipline…lacked something?
Tan carefully shifted out from under Liz and reached for his laptop in the bag next to his bed.
Liz murmured and wound her leg around his and her arm around his middle. Her fingers at his side brushed his skin, tickling him. He grabbed the computer and sat up so her fingers dropped to his hip and left the sensitive nerves in his side alone.
The long day followed by a visceral release had sent her into a deep sleep, and he was glad she was finally able to really relax, even if it did end up being short term.
He clicked open the file Hawk sent him from the Raleigh Police Department. Pages and pages worth of evidence analysis, profiles, and last-days tracking. He started at the top.
Hilary. A young woman in her twenties, short blonde hair, blue eyes. Grew up on the south side of town. One minor brush with the law when she was caught with a friend shoplifting at a local Walgreens. The charges were dropped, a first-offense pardon and a severe warning to mend her ways. One older brother.
Tracy had a more unstable upbringing. A dad who’d spent time in jail and a mom who was in and out of rehab. Three older siblings. Tan scanned the names on the list of family, but nothing stood out from the lists Liz had made. He opened the comment attached to the older sister’s name. Holly, three years older, spent two weeks in the hospital.
She’d filed a report against one Robert Sarter for sexual assault.
Tancredo
sat up a little. Something similar. He opened the one for Miranda Feeks. “Well, shit,” he whispered.
She’d dated Gabriel. Had three sisters and a brother. Average family, middle class, no trouble with the law. He scanned further. Six years ago. Made accusations against Gabriel Sands. They’d dated the summer after high school graduation. And it had ended with her in the hospital. She’d reported to the police, but later rescinded the accusation against Sands.
Tan couldn’t stop the hard beating of his heart.
Without Liz, a connection to Sands would never have been made. By targeting her and failing three times, the killer had set himself up for failure. Why?
He clicked on the last file.
Gretchen…well-off, studied at Harvard for two years before coming home. Spent two more years at community college.
Tan opened his email program and sent a quick note to Malcolm. If he could get a little more information. Like why would a promising young woman leave Harvard at the age of twenty only to come home and slum with the locals at a community college?
He continued to Claire, the newest victim. Two years ago, she’d been hospitalized after being attacked on her way home from work. The man responsible? Her boyfriend. Unlike the others, she’d gone all the way to court, and he’d been convicted.
Tan rubbed at the stiffness in his neck. He thought about waking Liz, getting her thoughts on the files he’d been reading through. But that was an excuse to rouse her from sleep and talk to her and kiss her.
He needed to keep his head in the game, no matter how much he wanted her. The whole point of his rule to maintain a professional distance was to avoid distractions. Keep focus on protection, on the client’s well-being, not on whether he could make her come ten ways from Sunday.
***
The clicking of his fingers on the keyboard woke Liz from her sleep, and she settled her head against his pillow and slid her leg up against his thighs. He palmed her knee, as if binding her to him. They’d crossed midnight and were sitting past one. And she didn’t care. Didn’t want to get up and go to her room.
She should be filled with shame and apprehension for using the man in an effort to exorcise her demons. But at this point, she could hardly move, let alone care that sex with Tancredo Byrnes had been more like a spiritual experience. “Five years.”
