Relentless

by Sybil Bartel

  “Talerco,” I growled.

  “What?” he asked innocently, setting meds on the coffee table. “Am I wrong?”

  “Thomas.” Fallon grasped my face and tried to force me to look at her.

  Keeping my eyes averted, I pulled out of her hold. “Leave it be, babe.”

  “No.”

  Fuck. “I’m not good for anything right now, Fallon.” I yanked my cell out of my pocket and tossed it on the coffee table. “Put your number in and I’ll call you in a couple days.”

  Talon chuckled as he went to the kitchen and grabbed a water out of the fridge. “What he means is, if you’re lookin’ to ride the bologna pony right now, darlin’, it ain’t gonna happen. Your horse’ll puke his guts out.”

  Motherfucking prick. “Talerco,” I snapped.

  Fallon ignored Talon. “Look at me, Thomas.”

  Goddamn it. Giving in, I looked down at her.

  Pushing my hair back, she held my face, and her thumb glanced under one of my eyes. “Does it hurt?”

  “No.” I couldn’t focus for shit, but she was still the prettiest woman I’d ever laid eyes on. “You done inspecting me?”

  Talon outright laughed. “Tripod, you’re the only hot-blooded male breathin’ on this planet who’d turn down a once-over from the Fallon Amherst.” He shook a couple pills out of a couple different bottles and placed them in my hand, then gave me the water. “Here.”

  Glaring at him, I took the pills. “You done hazing me?”

  “Nothin’ doin’, Tripod.” Smiling, he slapped me on the shoulder before his demeanor sobered and he rattled off dosing instructions for the prescription meds cocktail he’d brought me. “And make sure you take all the antibiotics. Any questions?” he asked, looking between me and Fallon.

  “No,” Fallon answered for me. “I’ll make sure he stays on schedule.”

  “You do that, darlin’.” Talon smiled at her before looking pointedly at me. “Don’t wait to call me next time.”

  Hating that he had to come in the first place, but thankful I wasn’t sitting in a fucking ER having to explain myself, I nodded. “Thanks. I owe you.”

  He let loose with his signature grin. “Gettin’ to see your gorgeous woman again makes us even.”

  My jaw ticked and jealously flared.

  Chuckling, Talon walked to the door but glanced back at Fallon. “Try and get him to eat somethin’, darlin’. Meds’ll go down easier.”

  Her hands curled around my arm. “I will.”

  Talon closed the door behind him.

  My jaw clenched, I exhaled. “I’m never calling you darlin’ again.”

  Bright and unexpected, she giggled. Fallon Amherst giggled.

  I looked down at her and silently cursed my fucking eyesight. “I hate that I can’t focus for shit right now.” I wanted to see her.

  She instantly sobered, and her voice came out quiet. “Does this happen often?”

  Inhaling through my mouth to temper the nausea, I knew I had to tell her the truth, but I didn’t want to. “Yes,” I admitted.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

  Suddenly, I knew she wasn’t talking about my fucking disease and my chest constricted, but I didn’t say shit.

  “You should sit.” She tried to urge me to the couch.

  I should go to fucking bed and sleep for three days. But I couldn’t without addressing the bigger issue. “I don’t need you taking care of me. If you think you’re gonna nursemaid me, you need to leave right now.”

  She startled as if I’d slapped her, but then she went stock-still. When she spoke, her voice was perfectly fucking even. “I’m not here because I feel sorry for you.”

  It didn’t matter what her intent was when she’d decided to come over here. The situation was what it was now. “Good, because I sure as fuck don’t need your pity.”

  Ignoring my comment, walking around me, she sat down on the couch. Then she crossed her ankles and looked straight ahead. “I was afraid to need somebody.” Her voice quieted. “I was terrified of what that would mean.” She looked up at me. “I thought if I needed someone, it meant I was weak.” She searched my face. “If I was weak, then it must mean that I wasn’t whole.”

  Vertigo kicking my ass, nausea still intense, I fought from covering my eyes to block out the daylight coming in through the windows. I didn’t want to talk about weakness or bullshit need or my symptoms or meds or any other damn thing right now. But she was forcing my hand, and I’d be a fucking liar if I said I wasn’t still angry and hurt. “Is that why you walked away from me?”

  Smart, honest, she laid down the fucking truth like a warrior. “I walked away from you for the same reason why you told me to leave a few moments ago.”

  Inhaling, I fought a wave of nausea and ignored the incessant ringing in my ears as I remembered the last time I saw her. Shit running down my face, fucked-up words coming out of my mouth—I wanted to erase every fucking second of me losing all dignity, but that shit’d been replaying in my head for days. I wanted to crawl in a fucking hole, because you didn’t come back from shit like that.

  Except here she was, basically telling me she’d walked away because she didn’t want to feel needy and, hell, neither did I.

  Not wanting a single damn miscommunication between us, I laid shit out as plainly as I knew how. “I’m not weak, Fallon.”

  “I never said you were.” She looked down at her lap and her voice quieted. “You keep calling me Fallon.”

  “That’s your name.” What the fuck else was I supposed to call her?

  “I like when you call me darling.”

  Christ. I scrubbed a hand over my face. “I’m not sure what to say to that.” My head pounding, I was missing the punch line of that comment.

  “You say it differently than Talon says it.”

  Stewing over the fact she’d compared me to a war hero who was closer to her age and who had skills I’d never have, I remained silent.

  Looking vulnerable as hell, she shrugged. “I like the way you say it.” Inhaling, she stood and smoothed her hands down her dress. “I just thought you should know that.”

  Goddamn it. This was going sideways, and I didn’t fucking know why. All I knew was shit felt wrong when she wasn’t in my arms. But now didn’t feel like the right time to touch her.

  Freezing one minute, burning up the next, I gave in to my symptoms and turned toward the bedroom. “I’m gonna lie down. Thanks for the pancakes.” The thought of eating making me want to puke, I aimed for the bed.

  “Thomas?”

  I paused in the doorway, but I didn’t look back. “What?”

  She hesitated. Then, “Did you mean it? What you said?”

  I’d said a lot of shit, but I knew what she was after. This time, I wasn’t gonna be a pussy about it.

  Turning to face her, I made an effort to look her in the eyes. “Every word.”

  Not waiting for a response, I walked to the bedroom, closed the door and fell on to the bed.

  I STOOD THERE SPEECHLESS AS he walked into the bedroom and shut the door.

  I didn’t know what I was expecting after I’d cut him down when he’d told me he loved me, but this wasn’t it.

  I hated myself for the way I’d handled everything.

  Him, Summer, Leo.

  I’d stood in the background while André and Talon had spent half a day convincing Summer to go to the outpatient facility. Then when she’d left, I’d said nothing to her. She’d hugged me and said she was sorry for everything—the mess in my house, the man she’d brought to Thomas’s, the laptop, accidentally shooting me, all of it. But I’d just stood there. Same way I’d stood there when Thomas had said he loved me.

  That moment would haunt me the rest of my life.

  No one had ever told me they’d loved me with tears streaming down their face. Nobody had ever given me that kind of pure, raw emotion, that level of vulnerability.

  I didn’t know then how to handle it.

 
Just like I didn’t know how to handle things now.

  I’d spent two days cleaning up my house, then I’d make pannkakor because he’d asked if I’d make it for him one day.

  I was a fool.

  A fool for not seeing what was in front of me, a fool for making excuses for Summer, a fool for letting Leo walk all over me.

  I didn’t want to be that person anymore.

  I couldn’t.

  It’d gotten me exactly where I was right now.

  Standing alone.

  With the man I desperately wanted to be with on the other side of a closed door.

  Shit.

  Shit.

  Screw this.

  Steeling myself, squaring my shoulders, I strode toward the door and opened it.

  His scent, so much stronger in the bedroom, hit me full force.

  Then I faltered.

  Lying on the bed on his stomach, his leg bent, his arms were over the pillow, and for the first time I saw it. Black and blue and yellow and purple, the entire undersides of his forearms were mottled with bruises.

  “I’m not in an entertaining mood, Fallon.” His voice hoarse, his words were muffled.

  Oh my God, his arms.

  They were bruised because of me, because he’d caught me. He’d broken my fall, but he hadn’t come away unscathed.

  “You hear me, Fallon?”

  Ignoring the fact that he was still calling me by my proper name, I inhaled. “I don’t care.” I walked to the bed and made a decision. “I’m staying.” I stepped out of my heels.

  Rolling to his back, his arms went over his face.

  Hitching my dress up past the gauze wrapped around my thigh, I lifted my knee, intending to get on the bed.

  “Freeze,” he said without moving his arms off his face.

  Indecision hit, and I stilled.

  He lifted one of his arms. With his eyes red and swollen and bloodshot, his gaze cut from where I was still holding my dress up over the bandaging on my leg to my face. “You get on this bed, that’s it.” Stark, commanding, his voice and tone were one hundred percent dominant.

  My heart in my throat, a tingle ran up my spine, and I tried to swallow. “What?”

  “I’m done fucking around, Fallon. You get in my bed, you’re staying. All in. You’re mine and I’m yours. Period. You know exactly how I feel about you.” He paused, letting his words sink in a moment before his jaw ticked and his nostrils flared once. “If you’re not one hundred percent in, leave. I’m not doing halfway with you. I’m not gonna be your friend. And I sure as hell am not gonna stand by and watch you fuck other men. You don’t want me, fine. But that means we’re done. So make a decision.”

  God help me, I didn’t even hesitate.

  I crawled on the bed.

  His expression both fierce and wary, his muscles were rigid as his voice turned hoarse. “You know what the fuck you just did?”

  Shy, elated, giddy, hopeful, I smiled. “Yes.”

  He roared.

  Then he moved.

  His lips crashed over mine, and he grabbed my wrists. Pushing me to my back, shoving my hands over my head, he drove his tongue into my mouth. Possessive and dominant and heart-crushingly frantic, this kiss was nothing like the first time he kissed me.

  Releasing my wrists only to shove my dress up and grab my waist, he ground his hips against mine.

  A shiver went up my spine and I moaned.

  “Your leg,” he practically growled against my lips.

  Desperate to feel the warmth of his skin on mine, I grabbed at his shirt. “Fine, it’s fine.”

  Gripping a handful of my hair, he angled my head into his claiming kiss as his hand on my hip helped drive my body into his. Groaning into my mouth, thrusting against my soaked lace underwear, he devoured me.

  But I selfishly wanted more.

  Reluctant, I pulled back from his kiss and grasped his face. “Is this okay? Can you… do this?” I’d read up on Cogan’s syndrome. I knew he must be suffering horrible vertigo, and Talon had said he’d been vomiting.

  His mouth moved to my neck, and he did things with his tongue no man had ever done to me. “Can I what?” Rough, sexy, his voice was both dominant and teasing. “Fuck you?”

  Chill bumps raced across my skin, and my sex pulsed with need as my cheeks heated. I loved hearing him say those words.

  He chuckled against my neck as he fingered the edge of my underwear. “You like me talking dirty to you, sweetheart?”

  Sweetheart. My eyes closed, and I surrendered to the moment. “Yes.” So much yes. “And I like what you just called me.”

  “How about this?” Shoving my thong aside, he pushed one of his thick fingers inside me. “Do you like this?” He stroked my G-spot.

  My legs came up and my back arched. A sound only he could coerce out of me ripped from my lungs.

  “Fuck, yeah,” he murmured, shoving a second finger into my aching sex. “So wet, and so damn tight.”

  Oh my God. “I need you,” I begged.

  Stroking deep, his tongue on my neck, his thumb on my clit, he whispered into my ear. “Whose sweet cunt is this?”

  Oh my God. “Yours.” All his. “Please, please. I need you inside me.”

  “And I need you to come first.” Yanking my dress and bra down in one swift movement, his hot mouth closed over my aching nipple.

  I shattered.

  Moaning, keening, flying, I fell apart as my world came together. “Thomas.”

  Shoving his gray sweats down, ripping the lace of my underwear, he fisted himself and drove into me.

  Still orgasming, my body didn’t fight the invasion of his sheer size, but drew him in.

  We both groaned.

  “Fuck, woman.” He sank to the hilt, and his eyes closed as his head fell back. “Fuck.” Grabbing my waist, he pulled back before slamming back in and holding me to him. His gaze, hooded and intense, fell on me as his forehead met mine. “This is the only cock you’re ever gonna come on again, you hear me?”

  Emotions assaulting me from every direction, feeling closer to him than I’d ever felt to another human being, I let my thoughts spill out of my mouth. “I love you, Thomas Knight.”

  His eyes closed, and his face twisted with pain.

  For a single moment, my heart stopped.

  Then his lips crashed over mine and he drove his tongue into my mouth as his hard length thrust into my body. As abruptly as he kissed me, he pulled back and took my face in his hands. “I fucking love you, Fallon.”

  A single tear slid down my cheek.

  “I’m making you come again. Then I’m going to fuck you before I make love to you all damn day.”

  Kissing me once more, he pushed up on one arm, but he didn’t fuck me.

  He rolled like an incoming tide.

  His hips surging with strength and power, he drove deep into my sex. Undulating, he drew back in a fluid motion that was no less graceful than a warrior in battle.

  The surge of a tide, the ebb of its retreat, the heave and swell of his hips as he rocked in and out of my body, he did exactly as he promised.

  “HOW UPSET WOULD YOU BE if I told you I wanted a little weight on you?” His head on my stomach, Thomas traced a finger over my hip bone as we lay in our bed.

  I ran my hand through his hair. “I’m sure if I ate your aunt Ginny’s pecan pie, I could accommodate your request.” I loved the spacious new house on the ranch and every piece of furniture we’d picked out together, but sometimes I missed the coziness of the apartment over the stables where we’d stayed for three weeks while this house was being finished.

  Raising his head, he looked at me. “What if I wanted nine months of weight on you?”

  I froze.

  Then everything went blank.

  Cold and blank.

  Panic like I hadn’t felt in months reared up like an impending tsunami.

  “Fallon?”

  Nine months?

  “Darlin’?”

  He wanted
me pregnant?

  “Hey.” My arm shook.

  A baby?

  I swallowed. “What?”

  His soulful eyes took me in. “You’re panicking.”

  “I’m not.” I was.

  “You don’t want children?”

  I opened my mouth to say I already had a child. But then I shut it. I didn’t know where Summer was, not exactly. I hadn’t seen her since André Luna and another of his bodyguards had come to take her to the outpatient facility in Jacksonville while Talon stayed to see her off. André had arranged for a short-term, furnished rental in a house with other patients in the program, and she’d been there ever since. That was almost two months ago.

  But something suddenly occurred to me.

  Maybe I hadn’t completely failed her.

  Maybe I hadn’t been the worst mother Summer could’ve had.

  She had courage. Yes, she was an addict. Yes, she was irresponsible. But that wasn’t all she was. God help her, I prayed that wasn’t all she was.

  I looked at the man lying next to me, and I had to tell him the truth. “I already tried the parent thing. It didn’t work out so well.”

  “You didn’t try it with me,” he quietly replied.

  I didn’t know what to say to that.

  Inhaling, he sat up. “Hear me out?”

  I barely managed to nod.

  “I swore I was never gonna have kids. How could I? I didn’t want to risk passing along Cogan’s syndrome.” He tucked my hair behind my ear. “But you know what I realized after my last episode two months ago?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “There are a hell of a lot worse things a kid can go through. And my kid, if I have one, won’t be the son of a poor rancher who’s too damn busy to take him to the doctor if he needs it. I’m not gonna neglect my own kid, and I’m sure as shit not gonna tell him he’s damaged goods.”

  “Your father told you that?”

  He shook his head once. “No, my mother. She told me God didn’t have the good sense to spare my life, and she resented being charged with damaged goods too weak to work the land properly.”

  Oh dear God. “Thomas, I am so sorr—”

  “Over and done with. I’m past all that. She wasn’t equipped to deal with me, or she chose not to. Who fucking knows? I don’t care anymore. I’m not gonna waste time dwelling on the past. She has her life now, and I have mine. But think about this…” The emotion in his eyes, his expression, the yearning, it broke me as his voice deepened. “Would having a kid with Cogan’s be any harder than dealing with Summer?”