His hand settles on the wall by my head, caging me in. “What do you need from Rebecca’s storage unit this late at night?” His jaw is set in that stubborn way I am coming to know, and despite its meaning, a part of me revels that I am coming to know him.
I brush my hand over the dark blond stubble on his jaw responsible for the delicious rasp on my cheek. “Can I explain on the way over? Please, Chris? I really don’t want to get sealed out of the main building.”
His keen stare cuts through the darkness and, damn it, I was right in my assumption. He’s steel, unmoving. Unwilling to let me escape without explanation. “What haven’t you told me, Sara?”
“In case you don’t know, you can be very overbearing, Chris. I’ll tell you on the way over.”
“Tell me now.”
“They’ll lock the building, Chris.”
He doesn’t move. Right. Of course not. Chris is always in control. Not always, a voice in my head says, and I remember him offering me his shirt to keep me from feeling insecure about my nudity when he was still dressed. In small but important ways he shares the power with me.
“I stopped by to see if I could find anything else that might tell me how to contact Rebecca.” I intend to say no more, but he stares at me and my tendency toward nervous rambling kicks in. “I lost track of time and then all of a sudden the power went out and it was pitch black. I felt like I was suffocating and I couldn’t see anything and I got spooked. I heard this weird popping sound and I felt like I wasn’t alone.”
“What do you mean you felt like you weren’t alone?”
“I just know I wasn’t alone. Someone was inside the building. It felt like they were stalking me. I didn’t know if I should hide or run and I couldn’t see my damn phone to dial. I finally ran and when I got to my car I drove here. That’s how I ended up leaving the unit unlocked. I’d just pulled in here when you called.”
He stares at me for another intense moment and then pushes off the wall, cursing under his breath as his hands settle on his hips, under his jacket. “What the fuck were you doing at the storage unit after dark alone in the first place?”
My defenses flare, made worse by the fact that I know it wasn’t the smartest thing I’ve ever done. Stupidity is not an easy thing to face. “Don’t curse at me, Chris.”
“Don’t make decisions that put yourself in danger and I won’t.”
My feathers are ruffled further. “I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it for years.”
“Is that what you call tonight?” His anger is palpable, crackling off him like the hum of electricity. “Taking care of yourself? Because if it is, you’re scaring the crap out of me, Sara. I told you I’d have someone look into Rebecca’s whereabouts and that means you leave it the hell alone.”
I’m more than defensive now. I’m pissed. I don’t need another man to tell me I don’t know how to take care of myself. I lash out. “We’ve had this conversation, Chris. Fucking me does not give you the right to run my life.”
His jaw flexes, and while the shadows hide the green of his eyes, I’m pretty sure they’d be burning with red-hot anger. “Is that what we’re back to, Sara? I’m fucking you? Is that where last night took us again? Why you are all over me in a parking lot? Because if you want me to fuck you, I’ll fuck you until you can’t remember your damn name and you never forget mine.”
Heat rushes over me because I know how capable he is of making good on his words. But in their depths is the inference I’m not already there, that he doesn’t know I will never forget him, and more so, that I don’t want to try. I open my mouth to say as much, but I don’t get the chance.
“Decide now, Sara,” he demands. “If I’m with you beyond a few fuck sessions, I’m damn sure going to do everything I can to protect you and you’re going to have to deal with it.”
My mood shifts instantly with his ultimatum. I’m already in old demon territory and I can suddenly taste the poison of the past in every word I hiss. “Protect me or control me, Chris?”
I wait for him to react, to try to smash me back down, to demand of me whatever he sees as his right. Part of me wants him to rise to this challenge. Another fears he will. But at least if he does, I know how to deal with it.
But this is Chris, and he doesn’t do anything I expect, now or ever. He just stares at me, his expression unreadable, his jaw set in a hard line.
Long, tense seconds tick by, and he reaches into his jacket and snatches his keys from his pocket. “Let’s go lock the damn storage unit.”
He turns away and I feel my stomach sink to my feet. I don’t want to fight with him. And I’m not fighting with Chris, anyway, I realize. I’m fighting with my past and I refuse to let my old demons come between us.
I dart forward and put myself between him and the car, my hand settling on his chest. He doesn’t touch me. He stares down at me and I see no emotion in him. I’ve seen this Chris, back at the winery, when he’d been given something of his father’s, when he was shutting down emotionally, and I am not going to let him do that now. Not with me. Not because I let some damnable past demon get in the way.
Emotion claws at my chest and my lashes lower. “I’m sorry.” I draw a heavy breath and meet his stare. I’m scared to death of being vulnerable with this man who, without even trying, has more power over me than anyone before him did, but I remind myself that coming here was his olive branch, his act of vulnerability. “I needed you to be here and somehow you are, and it means more to me than you can possibly know. I don’t know how I’ve made such a mess of this, Chris. Please don’t let me screw this up again like I did last night.”
For a moment he is stiff, unyielding, staring at me with hooded eyes I can’t read, but suddenly, his fingers curl around my neck in that familiar way and he pulls my mouth to a mere breath away from his. “I’m not sure I know the difference between protect and control. You need to know that.”
On the surface his warning is all alpha male, but beneath it there is something more. He is not stone and granite, at least not with me, and like so much with Chris, this speaks to me. “As long as you know I’m going to tell you when you cross the line.”
He brushes his lips over mine, soft but somehow possessive. “I’m looking forward to it,” he assures me, the furthest from resistant he could be to me claiming my piece of control. The soft rasp of seductive promise in his voice tingles down my spine and sizzles every nerve ending in my body. Like many times with Chris, I sense there is a meaning beyond the words yet to be revealed, and I want to understand it, and him.
He leans back and stares down at me, and something shifts between us and expands. Something I can’t name, but my sex contracts and I crave whatever it is in a deep, aching way. Something I have yet to discover about myself and I know that Chris can show me. And I know that I am willing to go places with him I wouldn’t go with anyone else. No. It goes deeper than willingness. It is a physical need.
Three
Chris parks the 911 in front of the building, right by the door, rather than in the empty parking lot. “I’ll go lock up,” he says, putting the car in idle and turning on the parking lights. “What unit number is it and do I need a key?”
“One-twelve and it’s a combination lock I left hanging open on the door,” I reply, my gaze having settled on the storage facility. We appear to be the only ones here and the building is still dark. Chris starts to exit and I grab his arm. “The door is open, Chris.”
“Isn’t that the idea? Getting here in time to lock the unit?”
“Yes,” I say, glancing at the clock on his dash. “But it’s thirty minutes after closing. It shouldn’t be open.” I glance at the door again, and to the black hole beyond it. I remember how suffocating it had been inside, and I shiver, hugging myself with the certainty that someone had been in there with me.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Chris prods, gently tilting my chin to search my face. “What are you thinking and not saying?”
My mind replays
the moment I had burst from the door to freedom and my heart is once again in my throat. “The door was open when I went inside, and when I ran out of the building it was shut. Someone intentionally shut me inside.” I cut him a look. “And please don’t lecture me. I already know I was stupid to come here alone at night. Believe me, I know, Chris. I paid the price a hundred times over in fear inside that building.”
His eyes soften instantly and he strokes a hand down my hair. “I know you did, baby. And you can bet I’m going to have a talk with the office about security. They’re liable for the security of everyone on the property.”
“The guy who works here is creepy, Chris. I don’t have high hopes for this place providing security.”
His brow furrows. “Sara, damn it, you say that, yet you tell me you came here late at night alone.”
I grimace. “You’re cursing again.”
“You keep giving me reasons to wonder what you were thinking tonight.”
“The lady who works the morning shift at McDonald’s by my school is cranky but I still went there for my coffee.”
“Deflection will get you nowhere with me, Sara, besides a little extra of my certain wrath in store for you when we get home.”
Home. The word hums through me because I know that with Chris nothing is unintentional. My heart races with the intimacy implied and how . . . right it feels.
“Wrath?” I ask. “What exactly does that mean?”
He tilts his head slightly, and his voice turns dangerously tight. “Use your imagination. Or maybe we should use mine. Unless that scares you now.”
He’s testing me again, reminding me of the club the night before, making sure I don’t forget the woman I watched being bound and flogged. Of his confession that he has given and received pain. I lift my chin defiantly. “I’m not scared. Not of you. Not . . . with you.”
He narrows his stare on me and I know he is weighing my claim. “You’ve said that before.”
“And nothing has changed.”
“Hasn’t it?”
“It has actually. I now know the deep, dark secrets you said would make me run and here I am.”
“You did run, and baby, you only think you know my deep, dark secrets.”
“Show me.” I sound breathless.
“Show you.” It’s not a question. His gaze slips to my mouth and I am instantly aware of how deliciously brutal it can be as he adds, “There’s a price for not taking care of yourself as you claim you do so well.” His eyes lift to mine and there is mischief in their depths. “I’ll have to punish you.”
I glower at his reference to how well I take care of myself. “Don’t be a smart-ass. I can take care of myself.”
“So you say.” His lips quirk, his eyes twinkle, and his dark mood has lightened in a flash as it often does. “I’m just looking out for us both. I need you alive and well if I’m going to fuck you until you can’t forget my name.”
I feel myself heat from the inside out and I seize the opportunity to say what I had not earlier. “You’ve already done that, but if you want to be an overachiever, feel free.”
“Your wish is my command,” he assures me.
“I somehow doubt that.”
“Don’t doubt, baby,” he says, and the laughter between us fades as we stare at each other with the promise of dark, erotic pleasure between us and so much more.
My chest tightens and I touch his cheek. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
He traces my bottom lip and kisses me, a quick slide of his tongue that has me moaning with the taste of his hunger, with my own. “Let me go lock up so we can get the hell out of here.”
I grab his hand as he tries to move. “You can’t see in there to lock up.”
“I have a flashlight in the trunk.”
“What if whoever was in there with me is still inside?”
“If they make a wrong move, I’ll hit them with the flashlight.” He wiggles a brow. “I’m efficient like that, especially when I have better things to do.” He grins. “Like you.” He’s out of the car before I can stop him and I can’t stand the idea of him going inside that black hole. I get out, too, and meet him at the trunk.
“Woman—”
“Save your commands for another more enticing time, Chris. I’m not staying in the car. Haven’t you watched Friday the 13th? Michael slashes the girl in the car.”
“Michael is from Halloween. Jason is Friday the 13th.”
“Whoever he is, he slashes the girl in the car. I’m not staying in the car.”
He slams the trunk shut, and he’s now holding a long, silver flashlight. “And you think going inside the dark storage room with a guy and a flashlight is the safer bet?”
“I’m staying with you, Chris.”
“Sara—”
Lights flicker behind us and we both turn as a utility truck pulls into the drive. “Looks like the repairman has arrived.”
The truck pulls in beside us and the sound of steps on gravel draws my gaze to a man in an orange maintenance uniform walking from the office building down from this one. “The guy you don’t like?” Chris asks.
I shake my head. “No. That’s not him.” This man is a good twenty years older, and though he looks grumpy, he doesn’t ooze creepiness. I glance at Chris. “I guess I should have gone to the office in the first place.” I begin to doubt myself. Have I created this danger in my mind? Did I make this more than it had to be?
Chris pulls me around to face him, and I slide my arms under his jacket. He is warm and the wind is cold. “Don’t do what you’re doing,” he orders.
“What am I doing?”
“If you felt that you were in danger, if you ever feel that you’re in danger, don’t ignore that feeling.”
“And if it is a random power outage?”
“How do you define random?” he asked.
“I don’t know. It’s not a city-wide thing like I thought it might be. I just . . . I don’t know what I think.”
“We’ll figure it out together.” His fingers brand my hips, and the possessive way they splay there makes me believe him.
“Can I help you folks?”
We turn to find the maintenance man behind us and I’m amazed at how fast he’s arrived, or maybe time just goes by quickly when Chris is holding me. I suspect that is the case when Chris releases me, and I wish he hadn’t.
Chris indicates his flashlight with a lift of his hand. “The power went out before we could lock up. We just want to get it sealed up and then we’re on our way.”
The man scrubs his jaw. “I wasn’t aware we had anyone inside when the power blew. I went inside and checked for anyone who needed help.”
“I was inside,” I say. “And it wasn’t fun. Someone shut the outer door and I couldn’t seem to get out.”
The man frowns. “The door’s open, ma’am. It was open when I went inside.”
“Because I opened it,” I say, pointing out the obvious, and I can’t keep the defensiveness out of my voice.
“You have cameras in this place?” Chris asks.
“We do,” he said. “But no power means no camera.”
“Surely the remote security has its own feed,” Chris argues.
“We aren’t sophisticated here, mister. It’s all us.”
Chris’s brows furrow. “Then maybe you should get more sophisticated. She could have been hurt.”
“We’ve never had anyone hurt on site,” the man argues.
Chris looks like he’s going to argue but then clamps his lips together. “We just want to lock up our unit and be out of your way.”
“What’s the number?” the man asks.
“One-twelve,” I tell him.
He scrubs his jaw. “Oh right. I was the one you talked to on the phone. I see that unit is on my pending auction list again. It’s past due.”
“But the office manager gave me a one-week extension.”
“Almost two weeks ago,” he said. “And that was me.”
&n
bsp; “We’ll pay for another month,” Chris says, and I cringe.
I turn to face him and he pretends not to notice the objection in my face when I know he does. He focuses on the maintenance man. “Let us lock up and we’ll come to the office and pay.”
“That’ll be fine,” the man agrees.
Chris takes my hand. “Don’t argue.”
“I don’t want you to pay my bills,” I say softly as we walk toward the building.
“I know.”
“I don’t need you to take care of me, Chris.”
He glances down at me. “Questionable after tonight.”
“I’ll pretend you didn’t say that, because I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to keep feeling the sting of my decision over and over again. That would be downright not nice of you.”
“I want you safe.”
“I am. I’m safe. And I have a check from the gallery coming soon to pay the rent here. I planned to beg for more time and pay them then.”
“Now you don’t have to,” he said. “And what are you going to do about your job at the school?”
“You’re changing the subject.”
“You aren’t answering the question.”
“I have time to decide.” I don’t know how in tune he is with the school system and the new mayor’s budget cuts since he’s in Paris half the year. “This is the second year that the public high schools have shorter years and longer days. I don’t start back until October first.”
We stop at the door of the building and Chris turns on the flashlight. “You know you aren’t going back. You should tell them now so they can replace you.”
Being Me Page 2
