Legacy Lost

by Jillian David

  With one smooth hard thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, and she screamed as pleasure flowed through every cell in her body. He gripped her shoulders and leveraged himself into her even deeper.

  A gasp of ecstasy left her lips, followed by a guttural yell. A sound she’d never heard before.

  “My God, you’re so sexy.” His smile turned to concentration as he started to move, rocking against her, hitting the right areas deep down inside her core.

  As she built up to a peak, he slowed down, making her grind her teeth in frustration.

  “What,” she panted, “are you doing?”

  “I’m waiting for you.”

  “For what?”

  He moved her legs up until her knees were pressed close to her shoulders. The angle changed everything and she shuddered. He filled her body, her mind, her vision. He surrounded her. Stark hunger and desire spun out of his thoughts and sparked life into her own thoughts. She’d never been this open, mentally and physically, with any person.

  When he skimmed a fingertip near the rim of her anus, she nearly lost her mind. “Oh my—. Please.”

  “Please what?” When he withdrew his hand, it was the cruelest thing she could imagine him doing at this moment.

  “Please . . . anything. More.” She bucked against his weight, but it wasn’t enough. “Touch me. Please move. Please go deeper. Please do anything. Just . . . more. Please, Eric.”

  “I suppose that’s good enough for me. I’ll stop holding back now.” He gritted out the words, then thrust harder and faster.

  He’d been holding back? Oh, God. Her brain and body couldn’t take much more.

  While he drove into her, he grabbed her ankles with one hand and pushed them up toward her head. With his other hand, he stroked the outer edge of her anus, sending dynamite sparks of excitement shooting through every cell in her body.

  She let go with one hand, and he slowed down, holding her on the edge and nearly driving her insane.

  “Hands up and on the rails or I quit.” He winked. “I’ve got you. Promise.”

  When she gripped again, he sped up the rhythm. Their moans filled the room. Her entire world narrowed down to the sexy man driving into her.

  “Say it, Shelby.”

  She panted, trying to catch her breath with the relentless thrusting. “Eric.”

  “Yell it.”

  “Eric! I’m going to come. Eric!” she screamed.

  “Yeah.”

  Stars burst in her vision as she clenched around him in a new rhythm. He continued to push her higher as he crested a few seconds later, pulsing deep inside her vagina.

  A few minutes—or was it hours?—later, he eased her legs down onto the bed and peeled her fingers off the iron bars.

  A tear leaked out. She couldn’t stop shaking.

  “Come here, darlin’.” Lying on his side, he pulled her into his heated body and surrounded her with his arms and his satisfied thoughts. Even more good news: his emotions didn’t hurt when she detected them. No headache at all.

  With no extra energy to consider this new finding, she tucked her head in the crook between his shoulder and bicep, then drifted off to sleep, exhausted, satisfied, and complete.

  Chapter 19

  A few hours later, Shelby snuggled into the toasty cocoon of blankets and heavy male limbs. Every muscle in her body ached, and parts of her body tingled and pulsed in the most delicious way possible. Her own heart beat in time with the thump of Eric’s, audible with her ear pressed to his warm chest.

  A background hum of white noise made her turn her head to look around the room. No TV or radio on. Weird. The sound continued, like voices murmuring from far away.

  She rubbed her ears.

  Then the hum changed to well-formed thoughts and emotions. What the heck?

  Turning in Eric’s arms, she studied his handsome face, rugged and relaxed at the same time.

  Then she locked onto his heavy-lidded gaze as he woke up.

  And got hit with a nonstop barrage of concrete, detailed thoughts. What the heck? She’d never detected actual thoughts before.

  Notions and ideas swamped her. Did she like the sex? His doubt and fear tasted like spoiled food and filled her nose and mouth and mind. He second-guessed himself. Had he been too rough or demanding? Did he scare her away with his control issues? Did they have a future? When would be the best time to talk to her about a long-term relationship? Did he have the items packed for the trip tomorrow? How long would he be gone? How could he leave Shelby for any length of time, when all he wanted to do was . . .

  Then the fully formed pictures flooded her mind. Her arms stretched up above her head, grasping the bars of the headboard. Her legs lifted high with him pumping in and out of her.

  She hadn’t seen these things.

  God, these weren’t emotions.

  No. This was what he had seen.

  These were his memories. From his own eyes.

  Her power had morphed again. Oh no.

  Before she could sort out that revelation, new, imaginary ideas flew out from him: Shelby bent over the back of the couch while he took her from behind. A whiskey glass with a clink of ice. An ice cube being pushed inside of her . . . .

  Oh no. Her face went numb. She couldn’t shove enough air into her lungs.

  The barrage kept coming. Images upon emotions upon thoughts. Nonstop. If her power before had been a slow IV drip, now someone had opened the flow wide open.

  She tried to trigger her filter to stop the flood. Couldn’t do it. Tried to push the overwhelming images away. Couldn’t.

  Shelby was drowning.

  Closing her eyes, she saw everything. From his mind, she absorbed the image of her body, naked, as she lay in his arms. She could feel what he felt when he held her. Oh God.

  Last night, he’d opened her up, inside and out. Never in her entire life had she ever been that vulnerable.

  Never had she lifted every last filter and lost complete hold of herself, of her mind, her power.

  Run-on sentences and feelings of sex and desire and fragmented thoughts like would the guests be city-slicker jerks or nice guys, flew straight from his mind into hers. No pause. No goddamned filter. A straight-line arrow of concepts and opinions.

  There was no pain in her head, but damn it, she couldn’t stop the stream of information. She’d take pain if it meant less connection any day.

  “Stop!” she said, trying to push away from him.

  His arms tightened around her, and claustrophobia—mental and physical—swamped her like getting rolled into a big rug, unable to escape.

  “Eric, please, stop it,” she gasped.

  He frowned. “What?” He trailed a finger around one of her nipples, then lower.

  A wave of thoughts of how he wanted to kiss her and turn her over and . . .

  “Oh my God. This is bad.”

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  She grabbed the sheet and scrambled away from him, clutching the fabric to her chest. A few feet away, the stream-of-consciousness receded somewhat but still kept right on going. As her jaw dropped open, her vision went gray.

  Eric. No. The man she most wanted in this world. She’d waited so long for this night. Longed for him. Finally opened herself up—body, mind, and soul.

  Now? He’d become the thing she feared the most.

  Another person taking over and replacing Shelby Taggart.

  Sod-green disappointment smeared the emotions emanating from him, and she curled into a fetal position on the floor. Not from physical pain but from the emotional slice his disapproval gave her. There was no question as to how he felt: her reaction disappointed him beyond belief. Devastated him as a man. In a fraction of a second, her response had destroyed the hopes and dreams he had built up in his heart.

  And she knew every last detail about how he felt.

  He rolled off the bed and stood up. Damn it, he was a beautiful specimen, and the closer he came to her, the more she couldn’t handle the
proximity as his clear thoughts whirled from his mind in louder swirls of desire.

  “Please, stay back, Eric.”

  “What’s gotten into you, Shel?” He clamped his sensual mouth into a hard line.

  A fire-engine-red wail of anger mentally slapped her, and she cried out, dropping the sheet and protecting her head. A useless thing to do. Her hands wouldn’t keep her safe from his thoughts.

  Now that she was naked again, the way he saw her shot right back into her brain. For the love of Pete, did this man never stop thinking about sex?

  Her breaths came out short and sharp, burning her windpipe as she struggled to calm down. The wheezing started up again. Damn it. She couldn’t be close to him and endure the full force stream of thoughts.

  No way could she take this for much longer. She would go insane.

  “I—I have to go. Now,” she stammered. Trying to form coherent thoughts and sentences was like trying to breathe while being suffocated by a thick, soaked towel.

  She bent and picked up her clothes, backing out of the room, but not before a warm flush of his interest at her bare skin turned her knees to goo. A blast of what else he’d like to do with her body made her sag against the wall, trying to fill her lungs with air.

  No one could function like this long term. She always knew there was a reason she had avoided close, intimate relationships. Always knew she should keep her walls up, her filter on.

  Never understood how critical that layer of protection was until now.

  Hopping on one foot then the other, she put her clothes on, all the while backing away from Eric. Trying something—anything—to get the constant thoughts to stop. Maybe distance would help.

  Instinctively, she had always known this would happen. For a brief moment in time, she’d had everything she ever wanted in a perfect, crystal snowflake of happiness. Delicate and beautiful.

  But one shift in the temperature or the air, and poof—it had melted away, leaving a gray glob of water in its place.

  “Shelby? Will you tell me what the hell is going on?” Eric’s voice was one decibel away from yelling.

  She held up a shaking hand. “Stay over there.” Buttoning her shirt, she paused. “Oh heck, you don’t know.”

  “Know what? Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

  “No I’m not okay, damn it. No, you didn’t hurt me. Not intentionally.” Fisting tears away from her eyes, she pressed her back against the front door, as far away from him as she could be and still remain in the house.

  “Please. Let me in, Shel.” Heaven help her, he was still naked, and semi-erect. And he wanted her all over again.

  “Oh, God. That’s the problem. I did let you in.” She grabbed hold of the top of her head. “Now I can’t get rid of you.”

  He laughed, an uneasy, incomplete sound. Then he frowned. “That’s a good thing, right?”

  “No, dude. You don’t get it. I am hearing every goddamned thing you are thinking and feeling all at once right this minute and I can’t stop it.”

  He stopped in his tracks, his eyes peeled wide open. A blast of white-hot amazement followed by slimy horror pretty much summed up both his conclusion and hers.

  “Wait. So you know . . . ?”

  “Everything you’re thinking. I know that you’re creating new ways to make me scream your name. I know that you’re making a list of supplies for your hunting trip. I know you want to do way more than we did last night, and hell, that would be awesome, but I can’t handle the constant commentary and ongoing flow of information out of your brain. Even if it is your brain.”

  His mouth gaped open.

  She shoved her unruly curls back and stopped when another spark of male interest exploded to life in her mind. “Oh, shit. This is bad. What if it’s like this with everyone around me? I’ll get a constant stream of everyone else’s thoughts. I can’t do this.” She started coughing, hyperventilating, wheezing. Pressing a hand against her sternum, she fought to calm down.

  “Are you okay? Can I help?”

  “No, stay back.” Her voice cracked and tears burned her eyes. “Please.” She slid down the door and shoved her head between her legs, trying something—anything—to keep from losing her mind.

  Didn’t help. The images kept coming, like multiple TV stations fast forwarding all at once. She shook her head, but it didn’t help. She was going to go insane.

  A future of living in an isolated shack in upper Saskatchewan looked like a real possibility.

  She sniffed. “Goddamn it. My rotten luck. I wait twenty-eight years to really open myself up to a partner, and this is my reward?” She yelled at the ceiling. “Are you freakin’ kidding me?”

  He rubbed the back of his head with a frustrated groan. “We’ll figure this out, I swear.”

  Holding out a hand to keep him back, she said, “There’s nothing to figure out. This is it for us. I know they say complete honesty is the way to go in a relationship, but that’s bull. This entire situation is why no one wants total openness. Humans cannot live like this.”

  “But—” The lost, haunted expression on his face made her want to run into his arms and hide away.

  But Eric had become the thing that hurt her the most in this world.

  She couldn’t breathe. Shoving the boots on her feet without bothering to lace them up, she grabbed her coat and threw it on.

  “It’s not your fault, Eric. Trust me.”

  • • •

  All of the heat drained out of Eric. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. And he sure as hell couldn’t control the blast of fury that flew out of him. He staggered against the side of the couch as she reared back in response.

  “Really?” he shouted, unable to temper his emotions. Damn it, now she put her hands over her ears, like she could block him out. “’It’s not me?’ You’re giving me that line of bullshit?”

  Was she really leaving? His heart thundered loud enough to drown out the harsh rasps of air sawing in and out of Shelby as she crouched like a terrified animal near the front door. Damn it, he was losing something precious.

  Again.

  “No, I—”

  “You know what. Damn it.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “I tried. This was my last-ditch effort with you, Shelby. I can’t take the crazy. I’m done.”

  For a second, he was back in middle school, watching as his father walked out the door, never to return. In another flash of memory, he was listening to his mother’s lame excuse for why she was leaving and how she’d be right fucking back. And did she return? Of course not. His ears buzzed as his head felt like it was floating away. Didn’t matter how much control he exerted, he still failed to hang onto anything good. He was on the merry-go-round from hell.

  A guy should learn by now.

  She sputtered, “But you don’t underst—”

  “Stop. I totally get the picture. I get that you’re coming up with an excuse to push me away. For you to hide and then leave. Look, you don’t have to pull punches on my behalf. I’m a tough boy.” He crossed his arms, not caring that he was stark naked. “That’s it. No more sad, puppy dog Eric following you around and hoping you’ll someday like me. No more waiting for you to grow a set and realize we could be amazing together.”

  Nothing but air came out of her open mouth.

  He couldn’t control the anger traveling through him in shock waves. As each burst of fury left him, she cried out. Fine, she absorbed feelings. He got that concept. As much as he’d like to spare her the pain, he could no longer hide his disappointment. Disappointment in Shelby and in himself. A tarry smear of self-doubt tamped down the anger and coated his every thought. He’d misjudged this situation in the worst possible way.

  For sure, he didn’t understand all of her reaction, but it couldn’t be as bad as she let on. She must be using her power as an excuse for getting out of this . . . whatever they had going on here. Whatever they might have had. A future. Gone. His mind painted a new picture with black paint on a black canvas.
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  “Will you let me explain?” she whispered.

  “No. I’m done playing games. You never gave us a chance. Frankly, I should have expected something like this would happen.” He crossed his arms and growled, “You do not get to walk away.”

  Her eyelids peeled back wide. “What are you talking about?”

  “No. I’m telling you to leave. We’re done.” He blew out a curse. “Geezus. That’s it. I give the fuck up.”

  “But—”

  He pointed a finger at her. “Go.”

  Chapter 20

  Three in the morning. Could Shelby pick a more miserable time to drive back to the ranch? A few stars peeked out from the clouds, and the moon struggled to appear as well.

  The still darkness around the car as she bumped down the long gravel road to the house kept poor company. At least the onslaught of images and thoughts had stopped once she got about a hundred feet away from Eric.

  It was like a restraining order, which did not a good relationship make.

  Would this be the rest of her life? Avoiding contact with Eric, trying to stay clear of him? Or would her life be like that with everyone from here on out? Her throat closed up. Coughing started the wheezes again and her vision dimmed. Would she have to stay away from her brothers, father, nephew?

  Damn it.

  Fair enough, she wasn’t the most social person to begin with, but if she had to become a hermit to survive all of the nonstop, unfiltered opinions and raw emotions for the rest of her life? . . . No. She wouldn’t do it. She’d walk off a cliff first. No way could she handle that hell.

  Parking near the kitchen, she closed the car door and carried her milk and eggs up to the house. The activity shouldn’t have exhausted her, but her limbs felt like lead as she dragged her sorry butt up the three stairs to the back door.

  Careful to limit the noise, she tiptoed into the kitchen and eased the door closed.

  At the sound of a chair leg scraping against the floor, she stifled a scream.

  She jumped and flipped on a light.

  Kerr, sitting at the table, held up his hand to protect his eyes from the brightness and put down the coffee cup.