by Morgan James
Blake’s hands clenched into fists at the thought of the fear she must have felt. He couldn’t imagine what she’d experienced. And she’d been—what?—all of seventeen at the time? She’d been just a kid trying to do the right thing and help someone out. He forced himself to relax, and he unclenched his fist. His fingers once again splayed over the soft skin of her stomach, but he couldn’t help the possessive hold he had on her.
Victoria spoke again, her voice breaking. “I... I couldn’t see where I was going, and I tripped. He turned on the flashlight and...” Her voice turned to a whisper. “I didn’t even recognize her at first. There was so much blood. I think I screamed, but I don’t remember, I just ran as fast as I could. I didn’t know where I was going, I just knew I had to get away.”
Blake closed his eyes and swallowed, simultaneously wanting her to stop talking yet get it off her chest.
“I ran and ran until I came to an old train trestle. He’d caught up with me by that point and he grabbed my hair, cornered me. I was pressed up against the railing, begging for him to stop, to let me go. He said, ‘I’m sorry it has to be this way.’” Her motions were illuminated by the pale light filtering through the gauzy curtains covering the window, and she raised a hand to her neck. “He had the knife to my throat and I knew I had to do something. I kneed him, and the next thing I knew, I was falling. I’d never been so scared in my life, and I knew right then that I was going to die.”
His molars clenched together so hard he feared he might crack a tooth, and anger overwhelmed him on her behalf. He wanted to find the asshole responsible and rip him limb from limb. His voice came out rough. “How did you get away?”
“I happened to fall near the middle of the bridge where there was a support pillar. It had stormed the day before, and a bunch of tree limbs and debris had gotten caught there. I landed near them, and somehow, they kept me afloat. I laid there, listening to him walk back and forth over the bridge, talking to himself for probably half an hour. I stayed as still as I could, moving my head just enough to keep it out of the water so I could breathe.” She shuddered. “Finally, he left. I don’t know how long I waited after that. It seemed like forever. I swore he’d come back for me, but he never did. He must have figured I was dead. I climbed out of the river and followed the train tracks—looking for a house, a road, anyone who could help. I saw headlights just as I was coming up to a road and I ran like a crazy person, waving my arms around, trying to get them to stop.”
She let out a self-deprecating laugh. “I must’ve scared the poor woman half to death. I was wet and covered with mud, my clothes torn. I refused to get in the car with her, and I just stood there crying hysterically, begging her to call the police. Thank God she had a cell phone. She was nice enough to wait with me until the cops came. I told them what happened, where Leah was...”
He couldn’t hold back anymore and he took her hand in his and laced their fingers together, placing a soft kiss where their hands were joined. “Oh, baby. I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”
She squeezed his hand in return. “I wonder all the time why God chose me. I shouldn’t have lived that day, but somehow I did.”
He rolled her to her back and lifted his head to look at her. “He knew you’d do great things, Doc. You’re a survivor, not many people can say that. Better yet, you use your experience to help others. He chose you because you’re an incredible, amazing person.”
“But...” Her mouth turned down in a sad frown.
“Seriously—you know it wasn’t your fault, right? Not what happened to you back then, and certainly not what happened to Rachel.”
“I know.” Eyes downcast, her reticent tone was a direct contradiction to the words she spoke.
He ran a thumb over her cheek, catching a tear as it leaked from the corner of her eye. “I mean it.”
He released her hand and pushed to a sitting position. Sliding one arm under her legs and the other behind her back, he scooped her into his lap. He held her close, just as he had a week ago, and he reflected on how much had changed in just a few short days. She’d stirred something within him, something he’d never known was even missing. Dipping his head to nuzzle her hair, he spoke softly. “Thank you for telling me. It means a lot that you trusted me with that.”
She leaned her head into his chest, cuddling closer. “It was hard to have normal relationships after that. I tried dating in college, of course, but I couldn’t trust anyone enough to let them in until...”
Her words trailed off and hope bloomed in his chest. “Until?”
“You know, I really didn’t like you when we first met.”
He blinked several times at the abrupt change of subject, momentarily caught off guard. “Yeah, I kinda got that impression, Doc.”
“I just...” She sighed. “When I walked through the door and saw you... You were so handsome, and I felt so inadequate. It sounds weird to say, but I felt something before I even met you. Lust, maybe? I can’t explain what it was, but I immediately thought ‘he would never be with someone like me.’”
He tipped her face up to his. “You’re beautiful. You should never feel that way.”
“I couldn’t help it, and I instantly got defensive. It was easier to pretend I hated you than to feel that little spark of... whatever it was. You stood there in your suit, looking like you just walked off a billboard and gave me this little smirk. I thought you were making fun of me.” He opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off. “I know how I looked, Blake. I hid under those baggy clothes, trying to hide my figure.”
“You’re perfect, no matter what you wear or how you look. What brought on the change?” He held his breath, almost afraid to hear the answer, and he couldn’t help but grin when it finally came.
“You.” Her head dipped in embarrassment. “Kind of, I mean. I just wanted to get your attention.”
He chuckled. “Oh, sweetheart, you definitely have that.”
He could practically feel her blush. “Kate finally talked me out of hiding behind my old clothes and helped me pick out some new things.”
“Do the new clothes make you feel better?”
She hesitated before nodding. “They do, actually.”
“Then that’s all that matters. There's nothing sexier than a confident woman.”
When she remained silent, he changed the subject, shifting her the tiniest bit closer. “I could get used to this, you know.”
“What’s that?” Her voice was soft and tentative as it floated up to him.
“Being here with you. I know we’ve only known each other for a couple weeks, but I have this crazy need to see you, touch you all the time. It’s hell having to work in the same building as you all day but not be able to pull you aside and kiss you whenever I feel like it.” He pitched his voice lower. “I’m glad you asked me to stay.”
“Me, too.”
Her head tipped up to his, and he swept the pad of his thumb over her cheek. Needing to take her mind off the story of her past, he dipped his head and brushed his lips across hers, teasing the seam of her mouth with his tongue. She opened for him, returning the kiss with equal fervor. Swept away by passion, Blake skimmed one hand up her side and cupped her breast in his large palm. She stiffened under his touch, and he immediately dropped his hand away.
“Sorry.” He spoke the words against her lips.
She burrowed her nose against his neck, inhaling deeply before speaking. “No... I... Please.”
“Please what?”
She grabbed his hand and pulled it back to her breast.
“I need to hear you say it.” His heart beat frantically in his chest as he waited for her to answer, the silence almost interminable.
“I want you to... touch me.”
Her plea cut through him like a knife and he gently lay her back on the bed then stretched out next to her. Propped on one elbow, he brushed his fingers down her arm from shoulder to wrist, then back up again. Across her collarbone, up her neck, his fingers
blazed a trail over her skin, slowly acclimating her to his touch. He wouldn’t make love to her—as much as he wanted to bury himself inside her, it was a new experience for her, and he wouldn’t pressure her. He had plenty of other methods of pleasure to share with her instead.
Goosebumps broke over her skin as he trailed his fingers downward, gliding over each rib, the dip of her waist, and across her hip. Inching her shirt up, he teased the silky skin of her stomach before slowly making his way up to her breast. She trembled under his touch, but her lips never left his, searching for more. A thumb flicked over her nipple and she shuddered against him, her head dropping back in ecstasy.
“If you want to stop, sweetheart, you just tell me.”
She shook her head and opened her mouth to speak. Instead of words, only a soft moan escaped and Blake smiled in satisfaction. His hand left her breast and grasped the hem of her shirt, pulling it upward.
“I want to see you, Doc.” Levering to a sitting position, he drew the material over her head to expose her exquisite body. His eyes trailed over her torso, examining the indent of her waist where it flared out at her softly rounded hips. His gaze lit on the swells of her breasts, and he dropped a kiss on the arc of one. “God, you’re gorgeous.”
Her head dipped toward his chest in embarrassment, and he placed a finger below her chin, lifting her face to his. “Do you trust me?”
He held his breath for a moment as she searched his eyes. “I trust you.”
Her hands came up around his neck, curling into his hair and tugging him down for another kiss. He ground his mouth down on hers before remembering his vow to take it slow. Pulling back a fraction, he gentled the kiss and trailed his lips over her jaw, down her throat, between the valley of her breasts. His mouth closed over one tight peak, and she writhed beneath him as he brought the tip to a firm point. He teased her other breast, circling the nub with a finger, the flesh tightening under his ministrations.
His hand left her breast and skimmed lower, his thumb finding the small indent of her navel. Lower his fingers traveled until they slipped under the waistband of her shorts. Her legs moved restlessly as he found her hot center and stroked her through the satiny material. She tore her mouth from his and threw her head back as she arched under his touch.
The sight of Victoria, eyes closed in ecstasy, chestnut waves tossed wildly over the sheets, was nearly his undoing. Looming over her, they locked eyes as he hooked his fingers in the fabric and slowly pulled the shorts down her legs.
She lay there clad in only a pair of black satin panties and the sight of her made his heart beat double time and his mouth water. She bent her legs, tucking them in close for modesty, and he shook his head, a small smirk playing about his mouth. He wasn’t going to let her get away with that. He wouldn’t let her hide from him any longer.
Catching a tiny foot in his hand, he placed a gentle kiss on the instep before kissing his way over her ankle, up her calf, along the inside of her thigh. He nuzzled her core through the material of her underwear, then kissed his way over one hip bone to the other.
She watched with fascination and no small amount of trepidation as he slipped one finger beneath the fabric and pulled them down her legs. One foot slipped free of the panties, then the other, and Blake settled himself beside her, chest to chest. His lips caught hers again in a scorching kiss as his fingers trailed up her thigh, over her hip, across the sensitive flesh of her stomach. His hand slid through her curls to cup her mound with gentle pressure. Her breathing quickened and she threw her arms around his neck to hold him close.
A ragged moan welled up in her throat as he slipped one finger inside her, massaging the sensitive folds. Her legs fell open in invitation and he stroked in and out, gradually increasing his pace until she came with a ragged cry, her muscles clenching around him. She looked so beautiful lying there, breathing heavily, hair disheveled, that he couldn’t help but smile down at her. Her eyes finally opened and they met his, the gray depths immediately wary even in the dim light.
He dropped a reassuring kiss on her lips before she could allow the doubt to intrude and ruin the moment. “You okay, beautiful?”
She nodded, eyes still locked on his. “I’m... great.”
He stroked her hip bone. “Good. We should get some sleep.”
“What about...” She propped herself on an elbow and gestured toward him. “Aren’t you...?”
Oh, yeah. He was hard as a rock and ready to go. But he wasn’t going to take the easy way out and ask her to help relieve the pressure. He needed to earn her trust first, and he was too wound up at the moment to control himself. Instead, he shook his head and shifted her so she lay on the pillow next to him. “Tonight’s all about you. Now, c’mere.”
Pulling her closer, he tucked her against his side, spoon-style, so her head rested just below his chin. He dropped a kiss on her hair and splayed his fingers possessively over her stomach.
“Night, Doc.” He had her right where he wanted her, and he wasn’t about to let her go.
Chapter Sixteen
He glanced around the sunny kitchen as she deftly measured coffee into the basket of the percolator and turned it on. The window above the sink looked out over a small, but well-maintained backyard. The grass was green but he knew it would be hard and brittle to the touch, dry from the intense heat of the sun. It was one thing Blake didn’t think he’d ever get used to. Back in Wisconsin, the grass was lush and soft; here it was like walking across a green Brillo pad.
Victoria’s house was decent sized and well taken care of. Unread mail was heaped in a small pile on the corner of the counter and several plates and glasses, including his own from last night, filled the sink. She took good care of the place, but she wasn’t a neat freak. He liked that about her. He didn’t have to worry about her losing her shit if he left something out of place.
He wasn’t a dirty person, either. Having grown up with his mom and two sisters, they’d beaten good habits into him, taught him how to take care of himself. He’d done so for nearly two decades, but he couldn’t deny how nice it was to be here with Victoria. He liked the idea of taking care of her, and of her taking care of him.
“How long have you been here?”
Victoria glanced over her shoulder at him from where she stood in front of the coffee pot and pulled a small glass container filled with something white—sugar, he presumed—from the cupboard. “In Texas?”
“This house.”
“Oh.” She set the container on the counter and strode to the fridge. “About two years now.” Yanking open the door, she pulled out a bottle of hazelnut creamer, then gestured to a jug of milk. “How do you take your coffee?”
“Black, just a touch of sugar.”
With an affirmative nod, she closed the door and set the creamer on the counter. Turning to him, she crossed her arms over her chest and regarded him with speculation. “You’ve been here for a month, you said?”
“Yep. I bought a little fixer-upper on the outskirts of town. It was cheap and I figure I can flip it once I find something I really like.”
It was actually only about three miles from her office building, so it was an almost perfect arrangement. When Con had first approached him with the idea of moving down here, he’d contacted a realtor in the area and she’d sent him a photo of the older home. With a little work, the place could be really nice, and he should be able to turn a decent profit when he completed the renovations. The neighborhood was older and fairly quiet, which suited his needs well.
Given a choice, though, he’d like to be in the country where he had a little space to himself. It’d be hard to come by, being this close to the city, but maybe he’d eventually find a little plot of land somewhere more rural. Although the house was convenient, being close to both Victoria’s office and QSG headquarters, he enjoyed his privacy and would prefer to have some space to roam around. He didn’t want neighbors right next door. He wanted to be someplace where he could walk outside in his underwear be
cause, well, he could.
He stared out over the backyard, at the roofs of the houses just over the fence at the edge of her property. This was ultimate suburbia. Each home sat on a quarter- to a half-acre each, with only small hedges or trees to separate one lot from the next. Still, it was nice. He imagined it was perfect for Victoria, young and vibrant as she was. She probably attended cookouts and block parties with the neighbors, waved to them as they passed on the street or walked their dogs.
“It’s nice here.”
“Thanks. Everyone seems to be pretty friendly.”
“Have you met many of your neighbors?”
She shook her head. “Only a couple. I pretty much keep to myself.”
He nodded. “Where I grew up was mostly woods. We had almost twenty acres, and I knew it like the back of my hand. I spent every season hunting or fishing, building forts and putting up tree stands. My dad and I were always out just after midnight on Thanksgiving, ready for the first day of hunting season.”
She grinned up at him. “I can see that. My parents would never dream of doing anything like that.”
He lifted a shoulder. “It’s not for everyone. It’s tedious and time-consuming, freezing your balls off fifteen feet in the air, trying not to move too much, just waiting for a buck to wander by.”
“Sounds cold and tiresome.”
“It can be. But the thrill of the hunt is what it’s all about.” He winked at her and she cocked an eyebrow at him.
“Is that what they call hunting these days? Sitting in a tree drinking coffee and just waiting for a deer to wander by?”
He propped his hands on his hips at her teasing tone. “It’s a lot harder than it sounds.”