by Kym Roberts
“I brought you your bag.” She hadn’t even noticed the brown leather bag hanging over his forearm. He held it out to her. “Careful, it’s rather heavy.”
She choked back the emotion that wanted to bubble out, and smiled. He’d brought her bag of rocks. She hadn’t thought about it at all since that first night at the hotel, but now she wanted to go back and collect a rock at every location they’d ever been. “Thank you,” she said and placed the bag on the table.
“This is from Megan.” Khaos handed her the ugliest rock she’d ever seen. “She said it fit the memory.”
This time she didn’t hold back her laughter. She let it ring free with abandon.
“When did you tell her about your propensity to collect rocks?”
“While you were being macho and lifting the car off her leg. She needed a distraction. We were looking for a pretty one. How is she?” She asked.
“She’s got a long road to recovery. She had one surgery to stabilize her leg and it will take another to reposition the bones in a couple weeks after the swelling goes down.”
Téa winced. She’d had many injuries, but never broken bones. “And her shoulder?”
“It’ll be okay. That’s the second time she’s dislocated it.”
She was scared to ask about Cooper. Despite how good he smelled, Khaos looked exhausted. “And Cooper? Is he…”
“The doctors believe he will be okay. He went into shock, but they were able to stabilize him before we got to the hospital. He didn’t have any broken bones, but the laceration on his thigh caused a lot of blood loss.”
She stared at the neckline of his t-shirt and the silence grew between them. “Palmer?” She asked. God, it was like going through his entire roster of agents.
“Palmer is out of surgery, he’s doing well and his wife is on her way to Rome.”
Khaos bent down and looked her in the eyes. His gaze so intense, Téa could do nothing but back up and he pursued her into the room.
It was his turn for answers. He probably wanted to talk about her video. His bosses would want to clear Ty Beckingsale’s name officially, which would lead Khaos to ask her to come back to the States with him. Please ask me to come back with you. “Did you come to ask me to give a statement in reference to your sister’s fiancé?”
“If you think I’m here to ask you to come back and give a statement in regard to what occurred in Mexico City, I’m not.”
“No?” Her heart sank. He was here to say goodbye.
His head swung back and forth and she had to bite her cheek to stop herself from telling him she wanted to go back with him. She would do anything to spend more time with him. Their relationship was on the brink of something incredible. Something beautiful. Something—
“I’m here because you and I have unfinished business between us.” He strode toward her with a swagger only Khaos could pull off. Confident. Bold. He was undaunted by the way she backed up and nearly fell onto the couch. His arm snaked around her middle and he held her tightly against his hard body.
Understanding made her cheeks flare. She had dared to hope. To dream. A dose of reality, however, cruelly tore her heart apart. For a few brief moments she had believed he’d come for her; desired her in a way a man does when he wants to explore the possibility of giving away his heart.
That wasn’t why he’d come to her room dressed in jeans and a t-shirt that molded to his chest so magnificently. He was there because of unfinished business between them. Her insistence to have a quid pro quo agreement had cost her everything.
If she hadn’t demanded he help her experience real desire, she would’ve never let him touch her heart. Téa would have remained closed off and unreachable. The way she needed to be now.
With every fiber of her being, she wanted to make love to him just once so that she could cherish the memory and let it wipe away everything every other man had done to her body. She wanted him to dominate every touch she’d felt, every kiss she’d received, every act between a man and a woman she’d ever been involved in. She wanted to be his.
Instead, she was the job, nothing more.
She pushed at his chest, but he wouldn’t budge.
“What’s wrong?”
Everything. “Nothing. I just want you to know that this isn’t necessary. I don’t want anything from you. I don’t expect you to hold up your end of the bargain.”
He furrowed his brow. “What bargain?”
She released a derisive puff of breath as if her heart wasn’t bleeding. As if she didn’t care whether he came or went. “The silly quid pro quo. If I don’t have to go back to the States, I can hardly hold you to it.”
“That’s not the business I was talking about.”
“It’s not?” She searched his face, but the man was completely unreadable.
“No.”
Her heart dared to beat. “What business are you talking about?”
“The business of our hearts.” He reached up and caressed her cheek with a strong calloused hand.
“Our hearts.” She sounded like a stupid parrot. The business of our hearts—squawk.
“I know that we haven’t known each other long—”
“Barely a week.”
“Eight months,” he corrected.
“I’m not sure you can count the last eight months.”
“I counted every day I was away from you.”
“You did?” Oh, dear God. Did he?
A slow smile spread across his face. “Are you telling me you didn’t think of me once that entire time?”
“Maybe once, or twice.” She admitted, because God this man had thought about her when the only thing he’d seen her wearing were frumpy old men’s clothes that hid everything there was about her.
“I can’t tell you what the future holds for us.”
“No one can.”
He kissed her then. A quick stolen kiss so soft and gentle, she would remember the promise of it always.
“I can tell you I want you like no other woman I’ve ever known. Thoughts of you dominate every moment of my day when you’re not with me. I want to hold your hand. Laugh with you. Talk into the wee hours of the night with you in my arms. I want to walk through Rome and kiss you at the fountains. I want to argue about the history and marvel at the artistry. I want to discover new things and revisit old. I want to dine over candlelight and eat breakfast in bed with you as we watch the sunrise together.”
Tears filled her eyes. Was it real? “I want that too.”
“I want to go back to the train station and run away with you over my shoulder one more time.”
She scrunched her nose as her heart threatened to burst and her tears of joy finally trickled down her cheeks. “I think I’ll pass on that one.”
Khaos laughed and Téa found the sound quite intoxicating. She couldn’t remember such joy in all of her life. “Are you saying you didn’t like my hands on your ass?”
“I’m saying I was about ready to cast up my lunch all over your butt and shoes.”
His smile dimmed and his eyes grew serious as he wiped away her tears. “I want to make love to you. I don’t care how long it takes until you’re comfortable with my touch. I’m willing to wait.”
Her heart took off for the race of its life. This was real. He was real. The connection she felt only with him would not be denied. “I want that too, but I don’t want to wait. I want you to make love to me tonight, but…” She looked down at the masculine dip of his throat. Even there, his strength and beauty were remarkable. Everything about this man was untouched by the violence around him.
His finger raised her chin to bring her gaze up to his. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”
His words cut like the scars on her back. It wasn’t true. She wasn’t beautiful. Every part of her body had the marks to prove it. “Don’t.”
His thumb rubbed Stefano’s mark on her mouth. She wanted to turn away. Hide the
scar with a curtain of her hair, but he refused to let her go.
“Here is where I see how strong you are. A man almost three times your size tried to break you, but you didn’t crumble. It is the most magnificent beauty mark a woman has ever worn.” He kissed her cheek, her tears, and her scar as if he cherished what was beneath it more.
Except there were more. More that Khaos had never seen. The bloodthirsty signatures of the men she’d known before him covered her body like beaten tracks of survival. She couldn’t erase them or wipe away the vicious trail traveling down her back. The John Hancocks marring her skin were there for everyone to see.
The scars were the reason she’d been given to Stefano in the first place. Her skin was no longer smooth or youthful. It was stamped with the trademark of perverse abuse. Abuse she’d been forced to beg for with the pretense of ecstasy. She’d felt anything but rapture in the years of her enslavement. Every moan and every mewl had been one more step of her decent into the bowels of hell.
“You haven’t seen the worst of my scars.” She confessed.
“I know and I don’t care.”
He would care. Hardened criminals who’d wanted to fuck her from behind had thrown their shirts across her back; cussing that they’d been sold damaged goods and they wanted their money back. It hadn’t stopped them from the act, it just gave them more reasons to brutalize her. Punish her.
“You haven’t seen them,” she whispered.
“I’ve seen the video, and I’ve felt them on your body.”
She stiffened in his arms. He felt them? When? Her mind returned to the morning he’d given her her first orgasm. His hands on her body, spreading her, cupping her…cupping her bottom. He’d felt her scars and hadn’t asked about them? Hadn’t shied away or pulled back in shock or revulsion? Was it possible that he truly didn’t care? Could he see past the scars and love the woman underneath the way she loved him?
Because she did love him. More with every minute, but she wasn’t sure she could survive his revulsion or his retreat when he saw them in their entirety. “You haven’t seen all of them.”
“No, I haven’t.” He cupped her chin in his hand and made her see the sincerity in his eyes. “But I want to and it’s not out of some sick desire to gape and gawk. I want to see them because I want to experience every bit of your body. I have come to care for you.” He shook his head. “That’s not true.”
And he nearly broke her heart. She tried to turn away, but he wouldn’t let her. He held her chin firmly and forced her to see what she was too afraid to experience.
“I don’t want to scare you off or make you think I’m some obsessive maniac who believes lust is love and love is lust. I love you, Téa Bello Vanetti. More than I ever thought possible. I love your heart, your strength, the way you put others before yourself and the way you try to protect everyone even at a cost to yourself. I want you, Téa. Not the ghosts of your past, just the woman you are.”
Her chin quivered. She wanted to believe him, but could she…
He backed away from her and took her hand. “Come here.” He took her hand and walked through the massive bedroom and into the bathroom where he stood behind her as they faced the mirror. His arms encircled her waist and he rested his chin on top of her head.
“Do you see the love in my eyes?”
She did. It was there. Just the way her father had looked at her mother. But…she wasn’t her mother. She was damaged. “Yes, but—”
“There is no but when it comes to my love. It’s there for you to accept, or reject. Take it Téa. Don’t push me away out of fear. Trust what you see in the mirror.”
Téa bit her lip. She stood on the edge of falling. Would he catch her, or would she hit the cold hard floor, her faith and love shattered with his rejection?
He pulled her hair around the front of her body and let it drape across her unscarred cheek. His lips brushed her neck where tendrils of the slashes marred her skin. He pushed his hard body against hers, and his kisses became more heated. His tongue swirled around the edge of her ear pulling her into the flame of his desire. She couldn’t stop the surge of want coursing through her veins as his hand reached up under her shirt to caress her breast. Wanting more, she pushed into his palm and shoved her ass into his cock. He was so hard, so long. Would he remain that way once he saw her back?
“Please let me take off your shirt.” The hunger in his voice turned his plea to gravel. God, how she loved that sound, yet the doubt remained and he saw it on her face. “Please, Téa. I’m begging you.”
She met his gaze and nodded. The sigh on his lips rushed heat over her neck. Gently he tugged the cotton t-shirt, she wore like armor covering her damaged soul, over her head and exposed everything she feared him to see. Khaos didn’t flinch. He didn’t shy away from the horrors of her past. He slowly unclasped her bra as he took in every slash, every mark, every slice of her humanity that had been stolen.
There was pain and distress in his eyes, but it wasn’t revulsion for who she was or how she looked. It was sorrow and regret. “I’m sorry there’s such evil in this world that would hurt you like this.” He brushed his lips across her shoulder. “I’m sorry I was not there to protect you.” He moved to her other shoulder and kissed her on top of a deep scar that made her choose the bras she wore carefully. He held her gaze in the mirror. “I’m sorry you’ve lost so many people you’ve loved.” He wanted to ease her pain, even now when the physical wounds were healed, but the emotional damage threatened to undo her.
His eyes and hands trailed down her back, taking in every last detail of her sordid history. “I’m not sorry to witness your survival or to be a part of your life now. Without these, we would’ve never met, and I will never regret that.” His hands stopped at the waistband of her jeans. “May I take off your jeans and your panties?”
She blushed and nodded at him, as she bit her lip.
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“I-I’m not wearing any panties,” she confessed. The clothes Andrea had sent to her room had included a thong, something she had yet to feel comfortable wearing after being forced to wear so many for so many other men.
Khaos groaned his approval and ran his hands over her ass as if chastising himself for not taking in that detail sooner. One hand snaked to the front of her and rubbed her there, right where she wanted him.
“Oh, God,” she sighed and moved against his hand; enjoying every moment of being with him.
“I need to take these off,” he whispered.
“Yes.” Never had a man asked for her permission. The fact that Khaos hesitated even now, made her want him even more.
He undid her jeans and slowly pulled them down over her hips as if he was savoring every last inch. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before, even on her. She was nothing special, but watching him was like nothing she’d ever experienced before. The heat in his eyes swirled with love. Khaos loved her. His finger trailed over the scar on her ass, the puckered edges a reminder of the last time Stefano touched her.
“You are the bravest, most courageous woman I’ve ever known. These marks don’t define your beauty, they define your tenacity, your strength, your power to overcome.” His finger reached between her legs from behind and dipped into her folds and found her wet with wanting. He moaned and dipped inside her, sending shock waves of pleasure running through her body.
When his finger disappeared, she couldn’t hold back the whimper. She wanted him there, now. How had he turned her body into his own little pleasure toy in such a short time? It was as if he turned on the button and her sex vibrated to life. Then he did something to utterly captivate her. He brought his finger to his mouth, twirled his tongue around it in the most erotic display she’d ever seen, and sucked it.
“You taste like honeyed wine and I’m addicted.”
He reached around and rubbed his wet finger over her nipple tantalizing her with each swirl, reminding her of his talen
ted tongue. He cupped both of her breasts and took each nipple between his thumb and forefingers, tempting her to forget and feel everything. She should be cooking in her thoughts. Measuring spices out for one recipe after another the way she had when Jonathan owned her. When he gave her to Stefano and he scarred her face and her ass, she had made pasta. When Miguel moved her to Mexico, she kneaded imaginary bread. She’d made so many different types of bread while she was with the johns in Mexico City, but none of that came to her now.
With Khaos it was only the two of them. The way it should be between a man and a woman.
“I want my mouth on you.”
“Please.” That one word was the limit of her ability to speak.
His hands and his voice were working magic on her mind and body. A slow burn coursed through her center and made her dripping with need. He pushed his cock against her lower back once more and proved just how much he still wanted her. Needed her. His kisses became longer, rougher and more demanding as he suckled her neck. She turned her head toward him, wanting his mouth on hers, needing to feel and taste his desire on her lips.
It was real, explosive and more than she’d ever thought she would have in her life. He turned her around, never breaking their kiss as he lifted her onto the counter.
“You’re in charge now. What do you want me to do?”
Stunned, she froze. No one had ever asked her what she wanted, let alone allowed her to tell them what to do. What did she want? Him. Yes, that was a given, but this was new. Foreign. She’d been with so many men, lived in so many new countries, she’d experienced multiple cultures and languages, but what he was asking from her was a complete anomaly.
He caressed her jaw and ran his finger down her neck to her breast where he circled her nipple causing it to pebble all over again. She loved his touch, but she loved his tongue more.
“Téa, I can see the hesitancy in your eyes, tell me what you want.”
“I want to see you. All of you.”
“Done.” There was no hesitation or slow strip tease. He tossed a couple condoms from his pocket on the counter and tugged his shirt off with a fisted grab over his shoulder at the same time as he kicked off his tennis shoes. Next he flicked the button of his jeans open and pulled them off with his boxer briefs in one swift move. His cock caught on the waistband of his briefs and sprang back long and hard against his flat stomach.