by Cynthia Eden
“Oh, look,” Sarah said. “I think the bed vibrates.”
He heard a squeak and a bounce, and he looked over to see Sarah on the bed. She’d just pushed a button and that bed was seriously moving.
“It does,” Sarah said as she shook.
He dropped their bags and just watched her. Sarah was smiling up at the ceiling and she was . . . humming softly. He frowned because he thought he knew that song.
Jax walked closer to her. “Sarah, what are you humming?”
She immediately stopped. “I don’t hum.”
Uh, yeah. She had been. She’d been humming a tune. And it sounded so familiar to him. Like something he’d heard when he was a kid.
She turned off the bed. Lay still. Her smile was gone. Her whole expression was just . . . empty. Like a light had been switched off inside her.
“Sarah . . .”
She sat up. Stared at him. Only she didn’t look quite like his Sarah. She was different. Cold. And when she looked at him, Jax could have sworn that he saw calculation in her gaze. “I know you want something from me,” she said.
Did he now? “And what’s that?”
“I haven’t figured it out, not exactly. But I mean, why else would you come all this way? Why take these risks? It’s not as if you took one look at me and fell in love.”
He stalked closer. “You seem very sure about that.”
“You’re not the type of man to fall in love. Not at first sight and, well . . . after what happened between you and Emma, maybe not at all.”
He sat on the bed next to her. It immediately sagged beneath his weight. “I care for Emma.”
“Caring and loving aren’t the same.”
He put his hands on either side of Sarah, caging her in place. “And you and Emma aren’t the same, either.”
“Why did you let her go?”
“Because she didn’t really want the man I was. She was looking for a way out.” They’d both been kids on the street, desperate. For a time, they’d clung to each other. “She found her way out.” She’d fought for her freedom from the past. But Jax knew, every time she looked at him, she just saw darkness and pain. She remembered what it was like to have nothing.
To want everything.
“What will you do . . .” Sarah asked and her face was still too emotionless. “When you find your family? Are you going to talk with them? Or are you going—”
“To just keep living my life?” Because that was an option. Doing nothing. “I just want to know who they are.”
Her gaze fell. “Maybe you’re better off not knowing, did you ever think of that?”
Now it was his turn to laugh, and that laughter was bitter. “I grew up with an abuser. He spent his days hitting Charlene, because she’d get between him and me. He took me . . . he was a fucking kidnapper, and in the end, he got exactly what he deserved.”
Death.
“You did it,” Sarah said.
He leaned in closer to her. “You don’t really want me to confess, do you? Because then you might have to tell someone about what I did.”
She didn’t pull away. Her hand lifted and touched his cheek. “No, I won’t tell anyone. Haven’t you realized it yet?” She leaned forward and kissed him. “Your secrets are safe with me.” The kiss was slow, sensual. So soft. Her lips feathered over his and her tongue lightly teased him.
“And you,” he growled back against her delectable mouth, “will always be safe with me.”
Her hand slid up his cheek. Sank into his hair. “I will learn all of your secrets, Jax. And they won’t scare me.”
He kissed her. Harder, deeper than she’d kissed him. “Good.” Because he wanted her to know, even if he was reluctant to say the words himself. Sarah had come into his life and she’d taught him about fear.
He’d been afraid when she’d been in the fire. Terrified that he wouldn’t get to her in time.
And when he thought of her turning away from him . . . because she might come to hate him or be disgusted by him . . .
Fear.
He tumbled her back onto the bed. He’d been slow with her before. He’d savored her. She truly was a woman to be savored.
But something seemed to be happening in that room. To her. To him. To them.
Emotions were tangling out of control. The present—it was a time bomb, and he just needed—
“Fuck me, Jax.”
Her. She was what he needed.
He pulled back, just enough to yank open her jeans and shove them down. She kicked off her shoes. Tossed the jeans and her underwear. Then she was straddling him. Wrapping her legs around him and bringing her sex against his crotch. His dick was long and hard because—this was Sarah. He always got turned on by Sarah.
She jerked open the snap of his jeans. Pulled down the zipper, and then her hot, soft hands were pumping him. Again and again. She swiped her thumb over the tip of his arousal, and then she brought her thumb up to her mouth and sucked it. Her eyes were on his as Sarah tasted him. She was so sexy that he thought he might explode right then.
But Sarah pushed up. Her hands closed around his shoulders as she positioned her body. And her sex brushed against him. Warm silk but . . .
“Condom,” Jax gasped out. He grabbed for his pants, started to put on the condom as fast as he could—
“I’d like to feel you,” Sarah said. “Skin to skin.”
He stilled, his whole body locking down as a surge of primal arousal flooded him. He would like nothing more than to fuck her, skin to skin, nothing between them. Nothing at all.
“I’m clean,” Jax told her, because he was fanatical about protection. He never wanted to risk having a child he didn’t know about. A child out there who was wondering . . .
Where’s my dad?
No, Jax slammed the door on the thought.
“So am I,” Sarah said.
And an image popped into his head. A baby, with Sarah’s smile. The real smile that didn’t come often enough. His heart seemed to hurt.
“But I’m not on the pill,” Sarah said. Her eyes looked so deeply into his.
She’s different. I want to be with Sarah. But . . .
He wanted to protect her, too. Because he had plans for Sarah. Plans that lasted far longer than a few dangerous days in New Orleans. But he wouldn’t be forcing her to stay with him because she was pregnant.
She’d stay because she wanted him. Just as desperately as he wanted her.
He kissed her. Heard that soft, sexy moan that she gave, and it just made him want her all the more. His hand slid between their bodies. When he touched her, Sarah was hot, but not nearly wet enough, not for him. He needed her wild, just the way he liked her.
So he stroked her.
“Jax, now!”
No, not now. Not yet. He was holding tightly to his control, for her.
He slid his index finger into her, then worked another finger into her tight sheath. She closed around him, feeling fucking fantastic, and he knew he’d explode when he drove balls-deep inside her.
His thumb pressed to her clit. He pushed and heard that moan come again. He pushed—
Her nails dug into his shoulders. “I need you.” Sarah kissed a hot path down his neck. Licked. Bit lightly. “Don’t make me wait, Jax. Don’t.”
He couldn’t refuse her. Not his Sarah.
His fingers withdrew. She was nice and wet now. Ready for him to sink inside her hot core.
Jax drove into her. His hands locked around her hips, probably digging in too deeply, but Sarah just arched toward him. Faster and harder they went and he was pretty sure they were breaking that old bed.
He didn’t care.
She was a tight glove around him. Every arch and glide of her body just pushed him ever closer to the edge of his control. He’d never wanted anyone the way he wanted Sarah.
No one would ever be like her.
She stiffened against him, her delicate muscles tensing, and he eased back because he liked to see the pleasure swe
ep over her face.
Fucking beautiful.
Then he pulled her down against him, holding her even closer, and he plunged into her. The orgasm pumped through his body, hollowing him out, and he shuddered against her. Jax pressed a kiss to her throat, right over her frantically pounding pulse. Kissing her hard there, wanting to mark her. Wanting everyone to know that Sarah was his.
Just as he was hers.
BRENT WEST KNEW that he should go home. There was no reason for him to keep staying at the hospital. Molly Guthrie was recovering. The docs and nurses were watching her, and the captain had given approval for one of the uniformed cops to keep guard that night.
But . . .
He slipped into Molly’s room. She was still hooked to machines. Their steady beeping filled the air. Her head was turned away from him and she seemed to be gazing out of the darkened window. She wasn’t, of course, she was probably asleep and—
“I know it’s you, Detective West.”
A ripple of surprise ran though him.
“I can smell your cologne.” Her head turned and she glanced over at him. He saw that Molly was very much awake.
He blinked at her response. “I . . . ah, my mom gave me that.” Hell, that was a stupid damn thing to say. He knew it was. Especially considering that it just reminded Molly that her own mother—
“Your mom has good taste.”
He found himself taking a step closer to her. She looked better. Not that stark white pallor to match the sheets. She almost seemed to have a touch of color in her cheeks. The shadows were still heavy under her eyes, but . . .
“Were you there, when my brother died?”
He should have never walked into her room that night. “Yes.”
“Will you tell me what happened to him?”
Brent shook his head. “You should rest tonight. You need to get your strength back.”
“Please . . . tell me.”
That one word pierced through him. Please. He knew this girl . . . no, this woman, hadn’t begged her captor. But she was right there, begging him. “Don’t,” he said as he took another step toward her. “Don’t you ever beg anyone for anything.”
She licked her lips. Nodded.
Oh, hell. “He was shot. A guard . . .” A stupid, overzealous guard. “Your brother had been given some bad drugs, Molly. They messed with his mind. We didn’t realize how much, not until it was too late. He grabbed a scalpel. A nurse was there and the guard . . . he . . . fired.” The words seemed so cold.
Molly’s hands had fisted on the covers.
He reached over and his fingers curled around hers. “He said something, there at the end.”
“What?” Her voice was so hoarse.
“He said that he loved you. He knew you’d been found. I told him you were safe, and the last thing he said was that he loved you.”
Her head turned away from him. He could see her shoulders shaking. The machines were starting to get louder. He expected the nurses to rush in at any time and demand that he leave.
But he didn’t want to leave Molly.
His hand curled around her shoulder. She turned back toward him, moving fast, and she reached out to him.
Hugged him.
He didn’t move. The last thing he wanted was to push her away and hurt Molly. She’d been hurt enough. But . . .
“Thank you,” Molly said.
She had nothing to thank him for. If he’d just gotten to the med ward two minutes faster, she wouldn’t be grieving then. Her brother would be alive. Brent had been too slow.
“I loved him, too,” she told him. He could hear the tears in her voice.
His hand brushed over her hair. Molly looked up at him. “Will you stay, just until I sleep?”
He nodded.
“I feel better,” Molly said, “when you’re here.”
He pulled a chair closer to the bed. “Then I’ll stay as long as you need.”
She smiled at him, and Brent knew he wasn’t going anyplace.
SARAH’S EYES OPENED. The room was dark around her. A nightmare hadn’t woken her, not this time. She reached out, but the bed next to her was empty.
That was why she’d woken. Because Jax wasn’t there.
She sat up in bed, pulling the covers to her chest. “Jax?”
“I’m here.”
Her head turned toward his voice. After a moment, her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and she saw him standing near the window. He appeared to be staring out at the night.
“Is something wrong?”
“I don’t always sleep so well.” He dropped the curtain and walked toward her. She could hear the sound of the floor squeaking beneath his feet. “I didn’t want to keep you up.”
“You didn’t.” She reached out for his hand. Wound her fingers through his. Then she remembered when she’d been with him before. She’d woken from her nightmare at his house, and he hadn’t been in bed. “Do you want to talk about it?”
He tried to pull away. She just held his hand tighter. “I’m not asking as a shrink,” she told him quickly. “I’m just asking because if you want to talk, I want to listen.” He’d heard all about her darkest moments. She wanted to hear his.
“There are some things you shouldn’t know.”
There were some things that Sarah wished she didn’t know, but those things . . . they weren’t about Jax. When it came to him, she wanted to know everything.
“I’m not going to judge you.” She wished that she could see his face, but it was too dark.
“No, but you just might run hell fast away from me. And that’s not an option for me. I can’t lose you.”
“You won’t.” She didn’t want to lose him. They had something together. Something between them that she didn’t fully understand, but she wanted nonetheless. She’d never had someone who made her feel so comfortable. Someone who seemed willing to risk so much, for her.
“Don’t be so sure of that, pretty Sarah.”
Pretty Sarah. He’d called her that from the beginning. And she liked the way his voice roughened when he said her name.
“I’ve done things that might scare even you.”
She shook her head. “I don’t believe that.”
“I’ve lied, stolen . . .”
That was supposed to scare her?
“I learned to use my fists far too early. When someone hurt me, I always struck back.”
“Still not afraid.” She wasn’t.
He sat down on the bed. The mattress dipped beneath his weight. “What do you think happened to the man who took me?”
Her breath froze in her lungs.
“Do you think I just let him walk away? I always knew what he’d done. It was in the back of my head. And all those years . . . he kept hitting Charlene. Kept hurting me. Did you think I was just going to let that all go?”
She could feel her lower lip trembling. To stop that movement, Sarah caught her lower lip between her teeth. And she waited.
“One day, he slammed Charlene’s head into the wall. She didn’t get up, just lay there, hurting . . . hurting so much. He was standing over her, ready to swing again, and I wasn’t going to let it happen.”
Her fingers were still twined with his.
“I ran at him. Hit him as hard as I could and he just . . . fell down the stairs. I heard his neck when it snapped. I knew what had happened. It’s a sound I’ll never forget.”
Jax!
“He didn’t die right away. I walked down to the bottom of the stairs. His eyes were wild, and he was trying to talk. I just stared at him because I knew there wasn’t a damn thing that could be done. A few moments later, his eyes closed. He was gone.”
Sarah was silent, still biting her lip.
“You’re supposed to say something, Sarah.” His voice roughened. “Call me a murderer. Pull away from me. Get the phone and call the cops!”
Did he really think that was what she would do? “Self-defense.” An act that got out of control. “You didn’t mean to
push him down the stairs—”
“Didn’t I? I meant to stop him, Sarah, by any means.”
Her left hand came up, and, in that darkness, pressed to his face. She could feel the rough growth of stubble along his hard jawline. “And I meant to stop my father that day.” Her finger had been squeezing the trigger. So ready to take that shot. If he hadn’t stopped . . . “I don’t really see how you and I are so different.”
“We are.” His head turned, and he pressed a hot kiss to her palm. “Because you didn’t ditch the body and lie to the cops. I did. Charlene helped me. And then, a few weeks later, she killed herself because she couldn’t stand to see what I’d become.”
“No.” Her denial was immediate. Absolute. “That’s not what happened.”
“You weren’t there. I was. I saw her, fading away each day. She couldn’t even look me in the eye, and she’d jump every time she so much as heard a creak of sound. She couldn’t handle what I’d done. She couldn’t handle me. I—I loved her, and she killed herself to get away from me.”
“No.” The denial came again, even harder this time. “I don’t believe that, Jax. You saved her life. You protected her.”
“Not soon enough,” he said, and she heard the guilt in his voice. “She was the reason I survived that hell, and I’m the reason she died.”
“Jax, you don’t know what she was thinking. You don’t know—”
He’d lifted her hand up higher and he pressed a kiss to the scar that slid along her inner wrist. “I never want to do anything to hurt you. Sarah, don’t leave me.”
Something seemed to break inside her at his words. “I’m not going anywhere.” She pulled him fully down on the bed with her. And Jax just held her. He cradled her against his chest and his arms curled around her back.
Sarah had never felt more protected.
And she’d never felt as if she belonged with someone else, to someone else, more than she did in that moment.
His words hadn’t scared her, they’d just made her understand him—and the connection they seemed to have—all the more. They’d both been through hell. Both battled their own demons, and they both weren’t ever going to completely shake their pasts.
But the past didn’t have to determine their future.