by HELEN HARDT
“You were painting.”
He nodded.
Odd, that he hadn’t pulled his hair from his eyes.
“What are you working on?”
“Something new.”
“May I—”
“No. It’s not ready yet.”
“Have you—”
“No,” he said again. “I haven’t looked at your watercolor.”
“But you had to move it, to get ready to paint, right?”
“I’m capable of moving a painting that’s covered off the easel without looking at it, Charlie.”
Charlie again. Not silver.
Roy was…not Roy.
Or maybe he was Roy. Maybe I really didn’t know Roy at all, despite the closeness we’d shared. After all, only days had passed…
“I didn’t mean to suggest—”
“I told you I wouldn’t look at it, and I never break my word.”
His dark eyes seared into me. “I know. I mean, I didn’t—”
His lips came down on mine.
Hard.
Raw.
Almost intimidating.
Yet full of need. Full of yearning need.
I had to leave in an hour to get to work on time. I was dressed in a brand new suit. I couldn’t ruin it with blue oil paint. Couldn’t…
My mind went blank as I returned his kiss, the fresh scent of hand soap edging into his natural woodsy aroma of musk.
I inhaled through my nose, drinking in the fragrance of his torment, of his secrets.
Of his key.
Of him.
This was all part of Roy Wolfe.
And Roy Wolfe was…
God, no. I wasn’t Lacey. I wasn’t going to fall in love in a week. Not when…
Not when…
His tongue searched my mouth, twirling with mine, our lips sliding together. When I finally needed to take a deep breath, I pulled away, and he caught my lower lip between his teeth and bit. Not hard.
But not softly either.
Just right. Just fucking right.
I inhaled when he finally let my lip drop.
“Bedroom,” he said huskily.
Bedroom.
Leave for work in an hour.
All doable.
He took my arm—more gently than I expected—and led me to his bedroom.
Sure enough, the bed was made. He hadn’t slept, as he’d said.
Which meant he was tired.
He wasn’t acting tired. He was acting…
Again, all thoughts melded together into only desire. Only passion. Only need for Roy’s body inside mine.
“Suit,” he said huskily. “At least it’s a good color this time. But it’s not you, silver. It’s not you.”
Yeah, he didn’t like my clothes. We’d been through that. He didn’t—
He yanked my blazer off my shoulders, and it fell to the floor in a blood-red heap. I looked down at the front of my white blouse.
Blues and grays streaked the pale silk. I dropped my mouth open.
“Who cares?” he said, as if reading my thoughts.
“I do. I have to go to work.”
“We’ll get you a new blouse.” He looked down at the jacket. “And blazer.”
“I paid a lot for this suit.”
“I’ll have it cleaned for you.”
“That’s not the point. I have to—”
Lips on mine again. If possible, he kissed me even harder this time, ravaging my mouth like a wild beast feasting on its prey.
I resisted at first, only because of work and my clothes, and then—
Just the kiss once more. Just Roy. Just me. Just this kiss.
Just us.
Nothing else mattered.
Work?
No.
My soiled clothing?
No.
Nothing.
Only us. Only now.
I quickly unbuttoned my blouse, our mouths fused together, only because if I didn’t I was afraid he’d rip it off me. I shimmied out of my skirt for the same reason.
There.
All good. Only my pumps, bra, and panties separated me from being naked and in Roy’s arms.
He broke the kiss and inhaled deeply. His cock was hard and tented his lounge pants. I couldn’t resist. I dropped to my knees and freed it.
Bigger and more beautiful than ever, it sprang majestically from its ebony nest, a clear pearl of liquid at its tip. I licked it off, letting the saltiness tingle on my tongue before I swallowed.
No. Shouldn’t suck him. Should fuck him and get it over with. Get to work. Get to work.
I ignored my conscience and flicked my tongue over his head. He shuddered, a soft moan creeping from his throat. He was so responsive, and that turned me on even more. I took him inside my mouth, held him there for a moment, letting his knob touch the back of my throat, and then I reversed the movement, slowly sliding my lips off him.
All the way off him.
Then I began again.
I didn’t have time for this. Didn’t have time to torment him until he was ready to explode.
Didn’t have—
I took him deep within my mouth again, letting my tongue swirl over his length.
Slowly I sucked him, each time getting more used to the invasion at the back of my throat. Each time wanting more and more to please him.
Each time forgetting more and more what was at stake.
I expected him to grab my hair as he had before, force me to go faster, to take more of him.
But he didn’t. He seemed content for me to take the lead, to suck long and slow, to—
He pulled out of my mouth. “I need to fuck you.”
His words were raw, his voice deep and husky, his demeanor animalistic.
And I was so, so ready.
He was even more ready. He ripped my panties off me—yes, literally ripped them in two—lifted me in his arms, and set me down on his hard cock.
The burn. The burn of being sliced into so quickly and unexpectedly.
God, it was good.
Roy gripped my hips and moved me up and down on his cock, still standing by his bed. Not against the wall. Not leaning on anything. Just his pure raw strength holding us both upright.
My tits were still encased in my bra, but they bounced anyway, abrading his chest as he fucked me, fucked me, fucked me.
Faster. Faster. Faster. Fast—
“Ah!” He brought me down so hard as he released, that I felt as if he were reaching far into my body, farther than anyone ever had, far into my soul. The depths of my soul.
“Fuck, silver,” he grunted. “Fuck. I love you.”
38
Roy
I love you.
I love you.
Fuck. I love you.
The climax swept through me like a herd of raging bulls. They trampled over the vast grass, their hooves bringing up clouds of dusty earth. All inside me, they raged, as I took from this woman’s body what I needed. What I craved.
I love you.
Fuck. I love you.
Then a voice. A sweet melodic voice. The voice of my angel.
“You… You love me?”
Reality hit me in the head like a boulder tumbling from a mountain.
You love me?
God, yes. I loved her. But had I said it? Out loud?
Fuck! It was too soon. She’d go running. She’d go running far away from me.
My cock slid out of her and I placed her gently on my bed. What to say? What could I say?
It was the truth. I loved her.
She looked up at me, her eyes innocent and questioning.
And I melted.
“Yeah, silver. Yeah. I love you. I really love you.”
I hoped for a smile.
I didn’t get one.
She bit on her lower lip as it trembled. Finally, she spoke. “I didn’t come.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“No. That’s not what I mean. I mean… Oh, shit. I don’t know what I mean.�
�
“You don’t have to say it back.” Except that you do. Please say it back.
“I…”
I sat down next to her. “You don’t have—”
She reached forward and pressed two fingers against my lips. “I know. I actually…want to say it back. But it’s only been…”
I kissed her lips softly. “I know.”
“Are you sure?” she asked timidly.
“Silver, I’ve never been more sure of anything. I can promise you that.”
No truer words. I was unsure of pretty much everything in my brain…except for the fact that I loved this beautiful woman.
“I…”
“Silver.”
“I want to say it back. I wasn’t lying.”
“I know. If you want to say it back, that means you’re feeling it, right?”
She nodded shyly.
“Then I can wait. You say it when you’re ready.”
Funny thing was, I wasn’t ready myself. It had come out on its own. I’d only been thinking the words, or so I’d thought.
She looked down at her blouse. “What am I going to wear to work?”
“We’ll go shopping.”
“At seven-thirty in the morning?”
“Right. Well…you can wear one of my shirts.”
“Your shirts will hang on me.”
Yeah, she was right. “Your skirt is okay. A little wrinkled, but okay. You just need…” I stood and walked over to my closet. I didn’t have a vast wardrobe like Reid did. My clothing consisted mostly of jeans, shirts, T-shirts, and paint smocks. A few pairs of shorts. And of course those ten damned suits that I hated wearing.
I looked through my shirts, and—
“Here.” I held up a red women’s shirt. “This will work.”
“The reds aren’t quite— Wait a minute. Whose is that?”
Whose indeed? I clawed at my memory. I’d had little contact with women. Only a few—
“Just someone I hooked up with once. She left it here. It was a year ago, at least.”
She didn’t look convinced.
“Silver, there’s been no one since you.”
“It’s only been a week.”
“Which means I couldn’t possibly be lying to you. You’ve been with me nearly nonstop.” I tossed her the shirt. “This is it. Either that or you call in.”
She threw the shirt back at me. “I’ll go home and change.”
“You might be late for work.”
She bit her lip again. God, she looked adorable. Would Charlie chance being late for a brand new job?
She stood impudently and picked up the shirt. “It’ll do.” She grabbed her skirt and marched into the bathroom.
And I tried not to chuckle out loud.
She’d be going to work commando today.
And I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about that.
She came out of the bathroom, her hair freshly brushed, the skirt looking nearly wrinkle free. The stretchy V-neck shirt was tight on her, which made her breasts look amazing, and she was right. The reds didn’t quite match, but only she and I would notice that. We had painters’ eyes. They were close enough.
“Close enough,” she agreed, when I mentioned it. Then, instead of hurrying out as I expected her to, she sat back down on the bed.
“Don’t you need—”
“In fifteen minutes. I can make it if I leave in fifteen minutes.”
Worked for me. I began lowering my pajama pants.
She held up her hand. “No, that’s not what I meant. I didn’t come here to…have sex. I really didn’t.”
“We just had sex, silver.”
“Yeah. I was there. But I came to talk to you.”
“Oh?” I sat down next to her. “What about?”
“About the key.”
My skin chilled, so much that I rubbed my upper arms to ease the cold.
The key.
The key I needed to bury for my sanity.
The key I needed to unearth to save my family.
The key only Charlie knew about.
“I told you the first time in the lobby. There is no key.”
She touched my cheek, the palm of her hand so warm against my now freezing skin. “There’s a key. You already admitted it to me earlier. You’re hiding it, Roy. And it’s killing you.”
39
Charlie
He didn’t deny my words.
I hadn’t meant to be so blunt. Whatever was inside him wasn’t literally killing him, but it was eating him up. Something about what Lacey had recalled had him spooked.
“It’s the name,” I said. “James.”
“James,” he said softly. “Jim.”
“Right. Jim. Who is it, Roy? Who is Jim?”
He didn’t answer, not that I expected him to. I glanced at my watch. I had twelve minutes now. Twelve minutes to uncover something that was probably buried under layers and layers of memories in Roy’s subconscious.
“He’s a priest,” Roy said finally. “Father Jim is a priest.”
I wasn’t Catholic, but I knew well the stories of priests who had behaved very badly. The thought of—
“He didn’t do anything to me. To any of us.”
“Not to you. Not to the Wolfes. That’s what you’re saying.”
He nodded. “Not to kids.”
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “Thank God.”
“But he…” Roy closed his eyes. “The elevator.”
“Were you in an elevator with Father Jim?”
“No. I was eighteen, I think. Nineteen maybe. The summer before college.”
“And he…?” I swallowed. Please don’t let this go there. Not Roy. Not my Roy.
“He was in the building. With my father. The Wolfe building.”
“Where I work?”
He cleared his throat. “Yeah. Only I wasn’t supposed to see…”
“See what, Roy? What weren’t you supposed to see?”
He closed his eyes. “Don’t. Don’t make me do this.” His body trembled.
I touched his face again. It was icy beneath my fingertips.
“Hey,” I said, my heart racing. “Easy. Open your eyes. Look at me.”
He obeyed, his dark eyes searing into my own.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to do this. Not right now.”
“I can’t,” he said.
“I know. I understand.”
“No, you don’t understand.” He sighed. “I can’t do it right now. I can’t do it…ever.”
My sweet, sweet Roy. His eyes were more troubled than I’d ever seen them.
“Just tell me for sure that nothing happened to you. Please. I have to know you’re okay.”
“Nothing happened to me, silver,” he said. “But I’m far from okay.”
Five minutes. Stupid fucking watch! I had five minutes before I had to leave to get to work on time. How could I leave him? How could I leave this man I loved when he was so distraught?
“Go,” he said. “Get to work. I know it’s important to you.”
“You’re important to me too.”
“I’ve lived this long without the key. I can live another hundred years if I have to. Go. Please.”
I scraped my fingers over his dark stubble. “Roy…”
“Do I have to force you to leave?”
I stood. I had to. The job. Lacey. The commitment. Everything.
Roy.
Everything.
Roy was a part of everything.
“I’ll go,” I said, “but this isn’t over. I’m coming straight over here after work tonight, and we’re going to finish this conversation.”
Roy said nothing. Just sat, as if numb, while I let myself out.
Thank God for busywork. I got to hide in my office for most of the day making phone calls. Worked for me, since my breasts were on full display in another woman’s stretchy shirt.
At least we didn’t have a meeting in the conference room t
oday, which meant I wouldn’t see Roy. I needed to keep thoughts of him at bay so I could get my work done. I worked on the memorial service with Terrence, and then I set up what seemed like a million—but was only eleven—appointments for Lacey.
Back to the memorial service.
Next on my list.
Call priest at St. Andrew’s Parish and reconfirm time at the church.
Easy enough. I found the number and placed the call.
“St. Andrew’s.”
“Hi there. This is Charlie Waters at Wolfe Enterprises. I need to speak to…” What was his name? I had no idea. “The parish priest to confirm our memorial service for Mr. Wolfe.”
“Oh, of course. Let me connect you.”
A few seconds passed. Then,
“Father Jim here.”
My stomach dropped and my skin went cold.
Father Jim. Was this Roy’s Father Jim?
I cleared my throat. “Yes, hello, Father. This is Charlie Waters at Wolfe Enterprises. I’m just calling to reconfirm the memorial service for next week.” Another throat clear. “For Mr. Wolfe. Er…Derek Wolfe.”
“Yes, of course. It’s all scheduled on our end.”
“All right. Thank you, Father.”
“Not a problem. Happy to do it. Mr. Wolfe was a huge supporter of our parish. Did you know I gave all the Wolfe children their first communion?”
“No, I didn’t. That’s…interesting.”
“Tell me. Have you heard from Riley?”
“We haven’t. We’ve got the best PIs looking for her. I’m sure she won’t want to miss her father’s service.”
The lie tasted like moldy vegetables in my mouth. Why would Riley want to go to a memorial service for the man who molested her for her entire life?
“I’m not sure that’s the case, Ms. Waters,” Father Jim said through the phone. “Derek did dote on Riley, but her brothers have probably poisoned her against him.”
What? I wasn’t sure what to say about that, so I changed the subject. “Thank you for your time, Father. I look forward to your service.”
“We’ll do it up Wolfe style, just the way Derek would have wanted,” he said.
Wolfe style? This was a memorial service, not a gala event. Though from what I’d seen of the wake plans at the Waldorf, it might as well be a gala. The portion at the church, though? That should be sacred and solemn.
“I’m sure everything will be perfect,” I said. “Thank you, Father. Goodbye.”
