She Can Run

by Melinda Leigh

  “I knocked on the door. The latch hadn’t caught and the door swung open. Richard was watching a movie on his flat screen. He was so absorbed he didn’t hear me come in. I just stood there. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing on the TV. It was two men. Two naked men. They were, um…” Beth shook her head and took a healthy swig of scotch. She waved a hand in the air. “You know…”

  Holy cannoli. “Didn’t Baker get elected on a platform of family values? Didn’t he promise to push for a federal ban on same-sex marriage?” Jack asked.

  Beth nodded. “It was the center of his whole campaign and the key to most of the contributions he received, but there’s more.” She took a shaky breath and drained her glass without coughing or sputtering. “The film wasn’t professional quality, more like a home movie. At first I couldn’t see the man’s face, but then he turned and I saw…Richard. He was on the DVD with a much younger man I didn’t recognize.”

  Smelled like a setup for blackmail. Jack doubted the congressman would have recorded his own transgression.

  “I must have made a noise, because Richard’s head snapped around, and he saw me in the doorway. The way he looked at me, I knew he was going to kill me. There was no way he’d let me live after I’d seen…that. Even in the moment, I remember thinking it explained a lot of his behavior, like why he couldn’t…um…perform…with me.”

  That information was the best news Jack had had in weeks.

  Unable to sit still any longer, Beth shot to her feet and resumed her pacing. “I ran down the hall. He chased me. He had a letter opener in his hand. Managed to cut me once on the side.”

  Jack flinched as he remembered the thick scar that snaked across her ribs. Two inches lower and they wouldn’t be having this conversation. She’d be dead. Jack gradually absorbed this new information. Her husband had attacked her with a knife. He hadn’t lost his temper and beat her in fury. His act wasn’t physical punishment for a transgression—but an intent to kill her.

  Baker would stop at nothing to silence Beth forever. With vast resources behind him, he could pursue her for as long as it took.

  Then Jack, the decorated cop, believer in justice, supporter of the legal system, had a vision. He wanted to kill Baker. Not just kill him, but punish him. Jack could see the knife in his hand, slicing and dicing the congressman like a Japanese hibachi chef. A cut for every time he raised a fist to Beth. Jack’s inner caveman wanted revenge.

  Jack’s eyes shifted back to her as she continued her story. He blinked the image from his head and concentrated on what she was saying. The details were important.

  “I got as far as the kitchen. Grabbed the big metal flashlight we kept on the wall for emergencies. When he lunged at me, I hit him over the head, and not just once. I hit him a couple of times to make sure he was really out cold. Then I tied him up with duct tape so he couldn’t follow me. I figured if I was lucky, no one would find him until the staff arrived in the morning. I emptied his wallet, grabbed all my jewelry, a few changes of clothes for me and the kids. We were out of there in fifteen minutes. There was no use calling the police. They’d just believe whatever Richard told them. They always did.” She blurted all this out in one breath and raised the empty glass. “Could I have a little bit more?”

  He poured a half shot of whisky into her glass. At her body weight, single malt could pack a serious punch, especially for someone who never drank. She took the glass with both hands and tossed it back like a sailor.

  Jack lifted the empty glass from her grasp and set it on the desk. Without thinking, he pulled her to his chest and wrapped his arms around her. She leaned into him and inhaled in ragged breaths. Several minutes passed before her trembling ceased.

  “Did you really try to kill yourself?”

  “No!” Beth pushed away from his chest, anger flashing in her eyes. “Shortly after we were married, I told him I was leaving. He said if I did, I’d never see my kids again. He must have slipped something in my food or tea. I don’t remember anything except waking up in the hospital. I was tied to a bed in the psychiatric ward. When I told the doctor I hadn’t taken anything, he said I was delusional and increased the medication. Once a suicide attempt was on record, taking my kids away would be a piece of cake for Richard and his father.”

  She spoke into his chest. “When we left, we went straight to my uncle’s house in Virginia.” A deep sigh shuddered through her body. “He took care of everything. He got rid of my car. Got us new identities. Kept us out of sight. For a while I thought I’d be wanted for assault or attempted murder or something, but that never happened.”

  “Baker was probably too concerned about his image to go public with the fact that his little wife bested him.” Jack leaned back and cupped his hand under Beth’s chin. Moving slowly, he drew her up to his face until his lips brushed gently against hers. Then he kissed her temple. “I won’t let him hurt you again.” The words came out as a whisper against her hair.

  “I know.” Her hands slid around his neck, and he returned to her mouth. When her lips parted under his, that tenuous, tight wire of control snapped. He crushed her soft body against him. A vision of Baker manhandling her flashed through his head, and he suddenly released her. “I’m sorry.”

  Her eyes snapped open; her chest heaved. She blinked in confusion. “About what?”

  “I don’t want to hurt you. Not after Baker—” Jack swallowed, scanning her eyes for any sign of fear or disgust, any indication she didn’t want him to touch her. He saw only desire.

  “I have never been afraid of you, Jack. I was only afraid you’d try to find out who I was and Richard would get wind of it.” She stepped closer and pressed her body against his. Beneath her soft breasts, her heartbeats fluttered against his chest. “I need you.”

  Those were the words he’d been wanting to hear. He buried his face in the curve of her neck. She was warm and soft and smelled like strawberries.

  “There’s only one problem. I’m still married.”

  “Not for long,” Jack said.

  Their mouths met. Her soft lips yielded instantly under his, and he swept his tongue between them.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Beth leaned into him and closed her eyes as he took her mouth. His woodsy aftershave lingered on his skin and mixed with the musky scent of his arousal. His muscular body was wonderfully hard against hers. Her legs weakened as desire coiled in her belly.

  She felt his passion erupting as he devoured her mouth. His hands roamed her body hungrily, cupping her ass and pulling her closer to the hard length that pressed against her belly. He drew his head back and held her against his chest again, his hot breath on her neck making her shiver, but she wasn’t cold. He slid his palms along her body until they rested against her collarbones, the thumbs rubbing the tender hollow at the base of her neck.

  “Tell me if you want me to stop.” His rough hand trembled with desire as it reached up to stroke her cheek.

  “Please don’t stop.” Her body ached to get closer to his. As close as it could get.

  Jack sounded more nervous than she was. He gently cupped her jaw, and she leaned her head into his palm. “Your trust in me is humbling, Beth.”

  She pulled her head back and met his gaze. “It’s OK, Jack. I’m not afraid of you. I didn’t think I’d ever want another man, but here you are.”

  “Yeah, here I am.” He leaned down and kissed her again. His hands slid down her sides and gripped her hips, molding her body to fit his again. She felt him rock hard against her stomach.

  He trailed his lips down the side of her neck. Her skin tingled, and warmth pooled in her belly as her body awakened. After months of being numb, she was suddenly aware of every square inch of skin on her body as it yearned for his touch. Long-dormant feelings burst forth as she came alive under his hands. Her skin lived and breathed for the stroke of his fingers, the whisper of his hot breath against her damp skin.

  He ran his mouth along her jaw and nipped lightly on her earlobe, s
ending tremors racing down her spine.

  He lifted his head. “Not in here.” Jack took her hand and led her from the study, down the hall to his bedroom, closing and locking the door behind them.

  A king-sized sleigh bed dominated the room. Or at least it seemed to.

  Jack sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling her close, so she was standing between his legs. He raised his chin and looked up at her, his face flushed, eyes hooded with desire, waiting for her to take the next step. Beth reached down and pulled his shirt over his head so she could touch his broad, bare chest. She spread her fingers around the hard muscles of his shoulders and felt the heat rise off of his body. He gasped as her fingertip brushed over a nipple. His eyes dilated as her hands stroked the hard planes of his chest and stomach.

  Following her lead, he slid his hands under her shirt and slowly skimmed up the smooth skin on her back. Her body arched toward him in response. Impatient to feel his hard flesh against her own skin, Beth unbuttoned her shirt. Jack’s mouth followed her fingers as they trailed down the center of her chest. He peeled the shirt off her shoulders, moving his lips across her collarbone, along the hollow of her neck. Her pulse throbbed thickly against his lips as his mouth slid down her chest.

  A low groan escaped from her lips as his tongue lingered just above the lace of her bra, then slid inside to flick over her nipple. The bolt of pleasure shot straight down to her toes.

  “Take it off,” he breathed against her damp skin. “Please.”

  She unsnapped her bra and let the straps slip down her arms. Jack froze for a few seconds, his gaze locked on her breasts, before he lowered his head and licked a nipple with the tip of his tongue until it tightened into a taut, sensitive peak. He lifted his mouth and blew across the wet tip. Beth’s hips rolled, and dampness pooled between her legs.

  Jack turned and lavished the same attention on her other breast, mumbling into her flesh, “More skin. Now.”

  “Wait.” Beth pulled away, lifted her pant leg, and unstrapped the Sig from her ankle and set it on the nightstand. “I didn’t tell you about this, either.”

  Strange. Jack didn’t look surprised to see a gun. “That’s OK. I feel better knowing you have it. Now come back here.” He drew her back to the bedside, hooked his thumbs into the waistband of her jeans, and slid the fabric slowly down over her hips. When she stepped out of the pants clad only in that black thong, Jack exhaled sharply. Beth blushed as he stared at the juncture between her thighs.

  “You take my breath away.” He reached forward and slid his forefinger into the thong’s elastic at her hip. He tugged her closer. “I haven’t had to think about self-control for thirty years. God help me.”

  His finger slid lower, following the band of the thong until he reached her softest flesh. He moved the silk aside and touched her with feather-light strokes that drew her hips forward with an instinctive surge.

  “No fair. You’re still dressed.”

  “That’s an easy fix.” He flashed her a wicked grin.

  She reached out to unsnap and unzip his fly. He lifted his body as she shoved his pants down and pulled them off with much less finesse than he’d exhibited. Finally, his erection sprang free, desperate for her touch. She curled her hand around the hot length of his sex. His hips rocked. He was simultaneously hard as steel and soft as satin.

  “If you keep touching me like that, this is going to end before it gets started.” Moaning deep in his throat, he stilled her hand with his. He slid one finger slowly inside of her and emitted what sounded almost like a growl from deep in his chest. She tensed for a second, then relaxed as he continued to caress her, breathing words of encouragement in her ear. His thumb circled her tiny bud of nerve endings.

  Beth moved against him to increase the pressure. It wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.

  Jack froze suddenly. Frustration crossed his face. “Beth. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but we should stop. I don’t have any protection.”

  Her hips stopped moving, but she met his questioning gaze with a sad smile. “It’s OK. I can’t have any more children.”

  He hesitated only for a second, and Beth was surprised to see an expression that just might have been disappointment flicker across his face. Then those nimble fingers went back to work and made her forget what she’d been sad about. He made her forget her own name.

  Her knees buckled as long-forgotten sensations flooded her.

  “I need more,” she gasped, looking directly into his eyes. Then she moved over him and took him inside her, sliding all the way down until his shaft was buried deep within her body.

  They both exhaled at the same time. Jack didn’t move, but inside her, his erection throbbed.

  “Phew,” he breathed out in relief. Beth laughed softly.

  “You know, this is a bad time to laugh at a man,” he joked breathlessly into her ear. “Doesn’t do much for his performance.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” She paused for a moment, letting her body adjust to his presence, the sweet pressure of invasion, savoring the feel of having him inside her. Jack held still, although the strain was visible in his clenched jaw and the corded veins that protruded from his neck. He gave her complete control, allowing her to set the pace as she began to move, slowly at first, agonizingly slow, drawing out those first surges of pleasure, until the sensations themselves gradually assumed command.

  Gasping and damp, her body took over.

  “Beth.” He curled forward and gasped in her ear. He slid his hand between their bodies, the tip of his thumb seeking, finding, stroking her swollen flesh. She arched backward, her nails digging into his back, driving him deeper. Her entire body clenched. Pleasure pulsed deep in her belly and exploded outward through her limbs. Jack reached for her hips, thrusting fully into her before his body shuddered and went limp.

  Jack collapsed backward and pulled her down with him onto the bed. His heart hammered in her ear as her head rested against his chest in the dark. Relief and satisfaction flooded her limp, damp body.

  His hands settled on her back, slowly stroking the smooth skin from her shoulders to the curve of her buttocks.

  “Wow,” she whispered, her body still draped across his.

  “Yeah. Wow.” He kissed her head. He was certainly in no rush to get up. “Are you OK?” He figured he’d be ready to move again in a day or two.

  “Yes, I’m more than OK. I’m wonderful.” She sounded relieved. “It’s been a long time since I felt this good.”

  Yet here she was, naked in his bed, relaxed, limp thighs draped loosely over his hips. She rolled off his chest, and he pulled her to him, savoring the feel of her silky skin against his body. He held her close for a few minutes, allowing their breathing to return to normal.

  “I haven’t been that wound up since I was seventeen and had this hot cheerleader I’d fantasized about in the back seat of my Chevy Nova. Took me all summer to get her there. The entire interlude took less than a minute. And I’m being generous with the time frame. Of course, at seventeen, I was ready to go again another minute later.” He tucked her head under his chin. “Now that we got that awkward first time out of the way, I’m going to take my time and taste every inch of your body.”

  When she didn’t respond, Jack turned his head and looked down at her. Her eyes were closed, her breaths deep and even in sleep. Nothing like an intense orgasm to relax a person. At least he hoped it had been as earth-shattering for her as it had been for him. He’d felt like his heart had exploded.

  He watched her sink deeper into sleep. She looked younger, the signs of strain temporarily smoothed from her face in a rare moment of peace. He had never seen her this calm. His eyes ran over the length of her naked body, appreciating the contrast of her smooth, slender limbs entangled with his big, hairy ones.

  Jack’s heart flipped in his chest. If she hadn’t needed the sleep so badly, he’d have woken her up for another round. He wanted her again already. There was a God, and Jack was obviously on his g
ood side at the moment.

  She sighed and rolled onto her side. Moonlight filtered in through the blinds and illuminated her skin. Jack inhaled slowly between his teeth as he looked closely at the skin on her stomach. A vivid reminder of her suffering, the scar stood out, raised and pink in the soft white skin. Jack ran his finger lightly over the mark. His chest tightened when he thought of how close she’d come to dying that night.

  Protectiveness settled over him like a thick fog, dampening all other emotions. Nestling closer, he pulled the covers up over her shoulders and closed his eyes, trying to blot out the violent images coursing through his mind and to concentrate instead on the physical pleasure he’d been able to give her. God knew she had already experienced enough pain.

  Jack didn’t care how important the man was. He would personally kill the congressman and bury him in a deep hole before he ever let him near her again.

  Beth awoke early the next morning, briefly surprised at the warm body pressed against her in bed. She glanced out the window across the room. The sky was pale gray, and the first orange streaks of dawn were just angling over the horizon. Not wanting the children to see her sneaking out of Jack’s room, she had intended to rise and return to her own bed long before dawn. Instead she’d slept heavily without dreaming for the entire night. Amazed at how good she felt, she rolled over to face Jack. He was already awake, lying on his side and watching her. He slid his hand around her hip and cupped her butt to pull her against his hard, naked body. He kissed her deeply.

  “Good morning.” His voice was deep and raspy. An early-morning arousal pressed against her stomach as his hand stroked her body. She felt a deep pull low in her belly as his mouth wandered down her neck, her body already anticipating pleasure.

  “I should go. Before the kids get up.” Speaking coherently took some effort. His mouth was very distracting, sliding along her collarbone toward that sensitive place he’d discovered between her neck and shoulder. Strong hands slid over her supple skin, kneading the muscles on each side of her spine.