“You’re gorgeous, sweetheart,” I whispered. “I’m going to kiss you now.”
I dragged her up the length of me and moaned when her breasts pressed into my chest, a test of wills as I rubbed her back with both hands. Her cheeks were flushed and her lips were pink when I bent my head and nipped at the bottom one. She liked it when I did that, I could tell because a shiver went through her every time I did. She almost convulsed from the pleasure of my teasing lips on hers. There was so much more to come, if she could open her mind to the experience and put aside all the rest.
Her hand caressed my face, and then, as if she was possessed by a force greater than herself, she grasped my chin, turned my head and dove in with her tongue. I laid back and let her take possession of the kiss. I was acutely aware somewhere in my soul that she needed to own something, anything, when it came to a man. She suckled my tongue in the most erotic display of womanhood I’d ever experienced. I hadn’t recovered from it when she moved on to suck my lower lip between her teeth and run her tongue over it, holding me captive with a spell I never wanted broken.
Her hand fisted in my hair until she finished the kiss, her forehead lowering to my chest while we dragged air into our lungs. “Want to go for a soak in the hot tub?” she asked, her voice muffled by my chest.
I moaned at the thought. Who was this woman and how was I ever going to walk away from her in less than twenty-four hours?
“I’d like only one thing more,” I whispered, laying a kiss on the top of her head. “But I don’t have a suit.”
She lifted her head and stared straight into mine. “Who said anything about a suit? You’ve never skinny dipped in a hot tub in the middle of December?”
A grin tugged at my lips. “Can’t say that I have, but something tells me that streak is about to be broken.”
She jumped up and ran toward the hallway, her laughter filling my heart as I gave chase.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
MERCY
The night was pitch black and snow fell lazily into the water. I’d purposefully left the lights off when we came out to the deck. Why? Courage loves the dark. Without light, courage is easier to muster and maintain. I settled onto the bench of the hot tub and sighed. The water was the perfect temperature and the bubbles laid down a layer of modesty from prying eyes. And boy were his eyes prying. He sat across from me, his clothes gone, but his eyes sharp and unwavering.
“Skinny dipping is more fun when the water isn’t up to your neck,” he said, a twinkle in his eye.
He wasn’t hiding under the water, not by a long shot. He was relaxed against the back of the tub, his arms stretched out on either side of him, and his strong chest above the water.
“I’m short,” I said as explanation, “and I have boobs. I don’t get that luxury.” I finger-waved teasingly from just above the water.
“I’ll give you luxury.” He wiggled his brows, but all I did was laugh at him.
“How kind of you. I can hardly contain my excitement.” I tipped my head up to watch the snow fall. “I wasn’t expecting more snow. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”
“We’re hearty North Dakotans,” he said robustly. “A little snow won’t chase us inside.”
“I mean, it is pretty nice in here,” I admitted. “It always makes Justice feel better to soak in the heat during the winter.”
“Does it bother you a lot?” His hands searched for it under the water and as much as I didn’t want him to find it, I also didn’t want him to find something else while he was groping around. I lifted Justice until his hands grasped it and he massaged it tenderly. Somehow, he knew the exact spots to avoid and the places that were okay to touch.
“Not a lot, no. I’m lucky that way. Some amputees have extreme phantom pain all the time. I lucked out and it only bothers me in the winter when it’s cold out. As long as I keep it warm, the pain is manageable.”
He continued his massage, running his thumbs up and down between the short bones left in my arm, and tracing the scar lightly with his index finger. “I don’t know about lucked out,” he mused. “I wish you didn’t have to worry about phantom pain at all. You haven’t told me how you lost your arm. I keep asking, but the answers are never forthcoming.” His hands massaged all the way up to my elbow now. It required him bending dangerously close to my chest in order to accomplish it, but I didn’t pull back. I was a glutton for punishment when it came to this man.
“I didn’t lose it. I know right where it is,” I smarted back, which got a bark of laughter from him. “As for how it came to be the size and shape it is now, that’s a story for another day.”
“I’m not going to be here for another day, so I think I’d like to hear that story now.”
“You’ll manage to live your life without knowing, Hayes. It’s no big deal.”
His hand rose from under the water to grip my chin. His touch was light but firm and it told me he cared about what happened to me. It said he cared about what I went through on a daily basis. His touch told me if we were living different lives right now, we might be able to find a way to be together. His touch told me he was used to getting what he wanted, something I had firsthand experience with. “I think losing your hand is a big deal. Sorry, but try again.”
My breath puffed cold frost into the dark night air. “Not necessary for you to know all my secrets. Sorry.” I pulled the arm from his grasp and clamped it down over my stomach.
He growled and grasped me around the waist, pulling me next to him onto the bench. Once I was settled, he lifted Justice again, continuing the massage. “You know all my secrets,” he scolded, his hands working their magic and relaxing me more and more with every passing second
I chuckled, rolling my head to the side to stare at him. “Doubtful. In fact, I would guess we’ve barely touched the tip of the iceberg when it comes to who Hayes Rutherford the Fourth is, and what he has been through in life.”
“We have to start somewhere,” he reminded me, holding Justice up out of the water. “Let’s start here.” He lowered it again and started his two-handed massage, rubbing up and down the arm almost to my shoulder. Every time he went up and back down, his knuckles would brush against my breast and my pulse would jump. I was feeling no pain from the wine, but feeling everything else in a hyper-aware state.
“Shit,” I whispered, “what the fuck does it even matter? You’re leaving tomorrow anyway.”
He leaned in and kissed me, his wet beard brushing against my cheek when he trailed kisses to my ear and bit down lightly on the earlobe. “I am leaving tomorrow,” he said around the flesh tucked in his teeth, “but that doesn’t mean I won’t be back.”
I moaned and then cleared my throat. “Probably not once you hear this little story.”
He released my ear and rested his shoulder on the side of the tub, but his magical hands never left the flesh of my arm.
“You know you’re exceptionally good at that, right?” My arm was loose for the first time in years, which was a monumental feat. “I wonder how good you’d be at massaging other parts of me.”
He grinned, and his white teeth flashed in the night like the big bad wolf. “Oh, I guess we better have a repeat performance, darling. When I’m in a bed with all the time in the world, I’m not good, I’m mind-blowing.”
“That’s a lot of talk, but can you back it up?” I slid closer to him on the bench, prepared to offer him my body instead of my words.
“I can, actually. If I wanted to, I could make you forget about every man who ever came before me, and ruin you for every man to come after,” he whispered, his mouth finding mine again and kissing me hard and fast. When he released my lips, his eyes told me I hadn’t pulled anything over on him. “But I’m not that easily distracted.”
There’s a way out of this, dummy, my mother’s voice rang in my ears. All he said was he wants to know what happened to your arm. You can tell him that without telling him the rest.
That’s not fair to Hayes, the other vo
ice butted in. You can’t have a relationship based on half-truths.
“We aren’t having a relationship,” I muttered.
“We aren’t?” he asked, a grin playing on his lips.
I looked to the sky, snowflakes landing on my lashes to turn them into the Ice Queen’s. “Sorry, I’m having an internal debate.”
“Who’s winning?”
I eyed him and shook my head, staring at the foamy water. I was about to make my mother proud. “To make a long story short, I got an infection in my arm, some kind of flesh-eating bacteria that caused necrosis and infection in the bones. To save my life they had to cut off the damaged part and hope for the best. That was four years ago. I’m lucky to have most of my forearm, which makes most tasks easier. Tying my shoe is a real bitch though,” I joked, going for levity.
His fingers ran over the ridged scar, his eyes boring into mine as though he could sense exactly where the deception started.
At my core.
“I’m sorry. That’s a tough pill to swallow, especially when it was no fault of your own.”
“Well, I held some responsibility for it,” I admitted and dropped my eyes from his. “That’s the thing about life. Every decision we make has consequences.”
“And that statement leads me to my next question, you know this, right?”
“What’s the long story.” There wasn’t a hint of a question in my tone.
“Inquiring minds want to know.” He winked, but I scooted to the edge of the bench and shook my head. “Inquiring minds should just be happy they know what happened. Do we have more wine?” My eyes searched the deck, and I was saddened to see there was none. “I could get Jack from the cupboard.”
He scooted closer and took Justice tenderly, his large hand wrapped around my bicep as his thumb did this magical thing to the side of my breast. “I don’t need Jack. You don’t need Jack. You need to voice what happened so you can stop blaming yourself for it. We can’t move on with life until we acknowledge the things that hold us in the past.”
I threw my good arm up out of the water and it landed with a smack on the bubbles. “You’re relentless. I’m trying to save you here, Hayes. If you’re not interested in getting laid that’s your choice, but telling you how Justice came to be isn’t going to be cathartic or freeing.” I took a deep breath, but my teeth were still clenched together and my voice was tight when I spoke again. “I’m not the strong woman you picture in your mind. I still cry once a week, sometimes once a day, as much as I hate to admit that, out of frustration and anger. I jump every time someone slams a door. I automatically take a step back when someone approaches me. The simple idea of letting a man touch me raises bile in my mouth and terror in my soul. I hunt with a bow because the sound of a gun going off would leave me in the fetal position and rocking in a corner.”
His lips thinned out and he grasped my face in both hands, his lips touching mine for only a moment. “When I touch you, is there terror in your soul, Mercy?”
“You scare the shit out of me, just in a different way,” I whispered.
“Tell me the truth. Just say it without worrying about whether I’m going to judge you or what my reaction is going to be.”
“Clearly, you don’t understand women,” I joked. “That’s not how this works.” I sighed, heavily. “The reality is, it shouldn’t matter. You’re leaving tomorrow and our paths will never cross again.”
His wet finger trailed down my cheek until it rested against my lips. “What did I say about using the word never?”
“To never say never,” I repeated. “Listen, Hayes, let’s just cut our losses here. What do you say?”
He lifted me and settled me on his lap, which was soothing and erotic at the same time. “How about we don’t and say we did? How about you sit here, cradled in the arms of someone who cares, and tell him the long story.”
“Kind of hard to think when Hayes Rutherford four point five is pressing into my hip.” I winked and wiggled my brows, but he dipped his, clearly not amused.
“He’s going to be pressing into more than your hip after you tell me exactly what has you hiding out here in the Hinterlands. Not that Cashmere Camp isn’t gorgeous, not to mention calming, soothing, peaceful, and cozy, but I’m well aware you’re hiding out here.”
My head dropped back and rested in the water, the snowflakes falling on my nose. “Fine, you know what? Fine, fine,” I grumped.
His arm tightened around my back and his other hand rested on my bare belly. “I got you,” he promised, his hand smooth when it stroked my skin, the water giving it an erotic feel that left me squirming.
“I was married,” I started, clearing my voice.
“Was married? You’re divorced now?”
I shook my head. “Widowed,” I corrected. “Widowed,” I tried to force the words out, but they stuck in my throat. “God, why is this so hard?”
“It’s hard because whatever happened was traumatic, and trauma is hard. Our minds try to hide it, paint it pretty, or pretend it doesn’t exist. When did you become a widow?
I knew what he was doing. He was helping me tell the story. He might regret it, but I’d answer his questions. “Four years ago.”
He raised a brow and held up Justice. “What a coincidence. That’s when you cut your arm.”
I nodded, shrugged, and swallowed all at the same time. I stared at the stars lost in thought. I wondered how I was going to put enough distance between myself and the story to avoid becoming an emotional mess. I had never told another soul this story, at least not someone I cared about. I didn’t know which was harder to do. Tell him the story or admit to myself I cared about Hayes. Probably the latter, and that’s saying something.
“My guess is you weren’t the one who cut your arm.”
“No,” I whispered in agreement, “he was.”
He brought what was left of my arm up and held it above my face. “Like this, right? You were using your arm to protect yourself?”
“Standard self-defense pose.” I nodded, the water rippling with the movement of my head. “He was mad I didn’t have dinner on the table at the exact moment I said I would. Chances are he was just mad in general and decided to take it out on me, per his usual.”
“How badly did he cut you?”
“I didn’t think it was too bad, at first. I got away from him and tried to leave to diffuse the situation. That only pissed him off more.”
“And your psyche told you it was you or him, right?” he asked, rocking me gently in the water. “And your psyche did something to make sure it was him and not you.”
I nodded, biting my lower lip to keep it from trembling. “When I married him, he wasn’t abusive. That started after he lost his job and blamed me for it. Then he blamed me when he couldn’t get another job. He became a raging alcoholic and the rest is history.”
“Sweetheart, you’re not the reason he was an asshole, don’t carry that blame, too.”
“Logically, I know that, but everything gets jumbled up in my mind when it comes to that night. I … I had a small gun that I kept hidden, you know, just in case. I guess I could sense the danger I was in. I knew I should leave, but I also knew he’d find me. I had few resources and my job was in town. That night wasn’t the first time he’d cut, punched, or stabbed me. But it was the first time I snapped and decided it was going to be the last. It was almost an out of body experience. I was me, but I wasn’t me. I was watching a woman running for her life and I couldn’t stop what was about to happen.”
I paused and sucked up a deep breath of cold air. The emotions and terror flooded me and stole my breath, so my chest heaved up and down in an attempt to get air any way it could.
He pressed his warm hand against my sternum to ground me. “You’re safe with me, Mercy. I’m going to keep you safe tonight.”
I didn’t really think so. He wasn’t safe. He was so far from safe, but this time it was my heart that was in danger and not my life. I cleared my throat and begged t
he universe to let me finish the story without tears. “I ran to the kitchen where I hid the gun. It was a safe bet to hide it there since he never went into the kitchen. That was my job. Besides, he had his own bar in the basement with everything he needed to live the gamer life,” I added, my eyes rolling to the sky. “That night, he followed me in and lunged at me with the knife again. I shot him. I didn’t think. I didn’t feel. I just shot him,” I whispered, my body trembling. “He fell to the kitchen floor and I knew he was dead. It was so weird, Hayes. It was like I became two people. There was the me standing there in the corner of the kitchen with the gun pointed at the guy on the floor, my hands shaking and my stomach rolling. It was gruesome, violent, and brutal. Mostly, I remember the me standing over the guy, checking his pulse, grabbing a coat, stuffing the gun in my waistband, and running out the door.”
He cradled my head and stroked my cheek tenderly. “I think that’s a normal reaction, sweetheart.”
“Maybe it is when your family legacy is killing your husband and going on the lam.”
His arms tightened around me and he kissed my forehead. “But you’re not on the lam. What happened after you left the house?” he prodded tenderly.
“I ran for hours through the cold and the snow. I forgot my arm was filleted open and I forgot that the authorities would know I lived there. I listened to this voice in my head telling me to run and never stop.”
“Your mother.” It wasn’t questioning or accusing. It was just matter of fact.
“Yeah, she’s there every day. She’s in my head right now, actually.”
“What is she telling you?”
“To shut the fuck up.” I laughed and raised my head out of the water. “She’s telling me to get laid as much as possible and then get you gone.”
He laughed, the sound low and rumbling, but amused. “Tell her to get the fuck out of your head. She doesn’t belong there anymore and she doesn’t deserve to be there. This is between you and me.”
The Secrets Between Us (Billionaire CEO Romance) Page 15