by Alana Hart
“What are you doing here?” I blurted the words out without care for how rude they sounded, but I was shaken. He had brought my son back to me…but I needed space from this man. This lovely, delicious man, who stirred feelings inside of me that I had thought long dead. Made me feel like a woman again, when all I needed to feel was like a mother. That was the silent promise I had made to my son on the day I had ripped him away from his old life and dragged him across open country to start anew.
He ignored my hostility, his eyes pointedly fixed on Luke. “Don’t suppose you have a couple of towels to spare, do you? Or are you going send me back out in that?” He thumbed over his shoulder at what now looked to be a complete whiteout, Mother Nature furiously dumping more and more of the white powder out of the sky.
I opened my mouth to deny that I would have, then caught the look he was giving me. One of pure heated mischief. The man stood there, dripping onto my floor, his clothes soaked through, skin tinged with pink as he thawed, and I had never seen anyone look more appealing in all my life.
I swallowed hard and turned my back, busying myself with stripping Luke’s clothes—much to his dismay and protest—because I had to keep my hands busy, or, God help me, I would be stripping Ryan.
“Mom! Stop!” Luke whined, darting his eyes to Ryan, who stood leaning against the wall, watching us in amusement.
Having removed Luke’s coat, hat and gloves, I stopped, indulging myself in one more hug. “Go jump in the shower to warm up, and throw Sheriff Everson a towel while you’re at it.” I planted a kiss on his wet curls, breathing in his scent, my baby’s scent, then shoved him toward the bathroom. “We will discuss this when you get out, young man,” I called after him in my sternest mom voice.
“Okay, Mom,” he called out, padding toward the bathroom. Shoving the door open, he fished inside, then threw a towel out onto the bed. “Will you get my camera out of my pocket? It might need to dry out a little. I don’t want it getting damp…” His young face was etched with worry for his prized possession.
I nodded, making shooing motions with my hands, then grabbed the towel off the bed.
The bathroom door slammed shut, the sound of the shower being switched on filtering through the door.
I turned back to Ryan, only to find that he was already stripping, his chest gloriously naked, his hands poised on his zipper.
I froze, hand out, holding out the towel.
CHAPTER FIVE
Amy
Wow! He was built! With muscles that looked like they had been carved from granite, the lines and hollows indelibly etching themselves into my mind. A fine coating of blond curls dusted his chest, arching across the flat expanse of pectoral muscles. I followed the line of hair down to his six pack, the curls narrowing into a thin line, trailing from his belly button, down, disappearing where his hand rested on his zipper. Lightly tanned, with massive biceps and corded forearms, he was well over six feet in his bare feet, a huge man, one who seemed even larger with his clothing partially removed.
My mouth felt dry, my tongue useless, as I stared at him, the towel hanging listlessly from my outstretched fingers. Every inch of me sparked to life as he took a slow step toward me, moving with a deliberate purpose that reminded me of a predator. And that would make me his prey.
He hooked the towel, wrapping it around my fingers, trapping them in the soft cotton, and tugged.
I couldn’t stop my feet from stumbling forward. I didn’t know if I even wanted to. At that moment, all I could think about was him.
Catching me against his chest, he cradled me in his arms. Heat seared through me where flesh met flesh, my palms flattened between us, stroking with a mind of their own.
I tilted back my head, looking up at him, and time seemed to stand still. Emotions swirled in his stormy blue eyes, glowing with mounting desire, so tangible it felt like I could feel him reaching out to me, stroking me with his thoughts, connecting us in a way that transcended flesh.
“What is this?” I murmured, transfixed by his gaze, our faces inches apart, once again. “Why do I feel this way? I never wanted—”
“No, but you needed.” And he claimed my mouth with a tenderness, a slow burning ride of lips brushing, teasing and nipping, stroking and tasting. Drawing me out, taking me under, he kissed me with an intensity, stripping away any denials, coaxing my heart to respond.
He pulled away a fraction, resting his forehead against mine, his breathing strained like my own. “As much as I would love to continue this, the shower has just switched off,” he said in a husky voice. “We have something. You and me. You can’t deny it, us.” Then he pulled away, leaving me balancing on wobbly legs, my head spinning.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I didn’t know what to say. I needed a couple of minutes.
“I’ll grab a shower, if that’s okay with you?” he asked.
Grateful for the reprieve, I nodded.
“This—” he swirled his finger between us, the same gesture I had used in the bakery, “—is not finished. We’ve only just begun.”
The bathroom door opened, releasing a billowing cloud of steam and a rosy looking Luke.
Ryan clapped Luke on the shoulder on the way past, a casual gesture, but I saw my son light up at the affection. “Hope you left me some hot water, kid,” Ryan grumbled playfully before disappearing into the cloud of steam, the towel slung loosely over his shoulder.
“Hey, Mom! You didn’t get my camera out!” Luke said, whipping the expensive piece of equipment out of his waterproof jacket and placing it carefully on the table.
“Sorry. I—”
“Doesn’t matter, it looks okay. Look at the photos I took earlier!” He waved me over, not noticing my addled state with the single minded attention of the young.
Bending over, I peered over his shoulder at the small screen.
“Luke!”
“Great, aren’t they?” He grinned, thumbing through the photos.
They were fantastic. But my son had always had a natural talent, one he had used in the city to capture buildings and people, the hustle and bustle of the fast-paced life. These, the cubs in the wild, were something else entirely. The attention to detail, the way he had framed the shots to capture movement, the lighting together with the snow.
“This is what you were doing?”
“Yeah. Mom, it was fine. I was hidden, they didn’t even see me!” He’d picked up on the disapproval in my voice.
“But they could have. And they’re not pets — they’re wild animals! They could have attacked you, mauled you, and then you would have been wounded in the snow.” My heart clenched at the thought, my chest tightening, squeezing.
“But they didn’t! And look at them. This is what I want to do—”
“It’s too dangerous! What were you thinking, out in the middle of a snowstorm? You could have frozen to death!” I sucked in a breath through a rapidly closing throat.
“I’m not going back to the city, Mom. I won’t. You can’t make me—”
“You are nine years old. You will do as you’re—” I couldn’t finish the sentence, couldn’t draw the breath. Flecks of black skittered across my vision, my heart jumping in my chest. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t get enough air…
“What’s wrong with her?” a voice growled in the distance, strong hands lifting me and laying me down on a soft cloud.
“Panic attack.” Luke’s voice drifted on the air, high and frightened. “She gets them now. Ever since—”
My arm shot out, waving frantically. Please don’t…
“—things got bad. With my dad,” Luke finished. He sounded broken, scared.
I needed to protect him. I had to protect him. I tried to suck in a breath, my hands clawing at my throat.
“Shhhh, easy there. Let’s get you up and in recovery position. Luke, grab that paper bag from the bathroom, next to the cabinet.” Large hands rubbed my back in firm circular motions, and I found myself sitting up, head between my knees.
The scrunching of paper, then, “Here, breathe into this.”
I sucked in a breath, the paper tight around my mouth. In, then out. In, then out. The weight on my chest started to lift, the dizziness fading, and I became aware that I sat, cradled tightly between two strong, muscular thighs. Two very naked thighs, dusted with golden hair.
I sucked in another breath, trying to focus on Luke, who was crouched next to the bed, anxiously peering at me.
“I’m fine, Luke. I promise. I’m sorry I scared you.” I smoothed his hair off his forehead, and he ducked out from under my hand, sheepishly glancing at Ryan. He was growing up too fast, trying to be a man too soon. “Why don’t you finish getting dressed, and I’ll rustle up something for us to eat?”
He nodded, and padded off toward the bathroom. I didn’t like how subdued he looked. He’d had too many scares in his short life. I was going to make it up to him. Somehow.
Ryan’s hand were still smoothing over my back, kneading away knots I hadn’t even known I’d had, and I couldn’t help indulging, leaning back, my head lolling forward. It just felt so good to have someone take care of me, just for a minute.
“Mmmmmm.” The involuntary moan of pleasure escaped as his fingers found a tight spot, just between my shoulder blades. I shifted under his touch, trying to keep his fingers just there, and he groaned, his breath heating my cheek. His hands frozen in their assault.
“Sweet Mother, Amy. You’re killing me,” he hissed under his breath, not moving.
Awareness of his body, pressed firmly to mine, seeped into my consciousness. The thick length of him, growing longer and harder, wedged between my back and his stomach.
Glancing down, I saw the white ends of a towel, scrunched up high on his thighs.
He had been in the shower when I had collapsed. Which meant he was naked. And pressed up against me. I couldn’t stop the shiver that rolled through me as need spiked in my belly.
Thank God Luke was in the next room, because if he hadn’t been, I might have rolled over and begged Ryan to take me. Screw the consequences.
And that would be bad. Right?
***
Ryan
The woman of my dreams was nestled between my legs, her body supple and relaxed, and all I could think about was the fact that my cock was painfully hard, throbbing with unrelenting need. The only thing stopping me from scooping her up, laying her down on the bed, and thrusting into her, was the fact that she was still dressed.
And that her son was in the bathroom, just a few feet away from where I sat—with the biggest hard-on that I couldn’t seem to convince to go away.
Mate! My bear roared inside my head.
Yeah, he wasn’t helping matters, flooding me with primal urges, forcing me to suck her scent in through my nose, flooding my body with nearly uncontrollable need. Gritting my teeth, I tried for the mental equivalent of a cold shower, but she was so warm and lush, her ass pressed snugly into my groin, I couldn’t detach myself from the moment.
When I had seen her, struggling to breathe, her eyes rolling back before she had collapsed, I had panicked. Felt helpless. This wasn’t something I could fight, something I could protect her from. No matter how big and strong I was, I had felt pitifully weak as she struggled, her own body trying to take her away from me.
And it had scared me. She was so fragile, so human.
Just remembering what had happened caused a cold sweat to break out on my skin, the ice running through my veins enough of a cold shower to take care of my ‘problem’.
“Why do you have panic attacks, Amy?”
She stiffened, her head facing forward, away from me and hiding her expression. But I could guess it would be one of panic.
I prodded gently, frustration riding me. “I can’t help, if you don’t tell me.”
“I don’t need your help. I can take care of it. Of us.”
“I know you can, but I want to help. I need to help. It’s driving me crazy, feeling helpless.” I pushed the hair away from the nape of her neck, and nuzzled the sensitive skin gently, breathing in her essence. She both calmed and excited my bear, her scent surrounding us, seeping into us. It was bliss in a way I’d never imagined.
“You? Helpless?” She forced a laugh, the sound bitter to my ears. “You don’t know what it’s like to be helpless.”
“You do?”
She shrugged, the action jerky and angry. “Some of us are better equipped to deal with the things life throw at us. I did my best, but I made some bad decisions along the way. I wouldn’t change any of them, but I would have left sooner. I should have left sooner.”
I struggled to make sense of what she was saying. “Should have left who?” I asked gently, half scared that she would clam up again.
“Him. Luke’s father. But he gave me Luke, so I can’t regret it.” She sighed heavily, her shoulders drooping. “So, now you know. I’d understand if you thought this was all…too much. I don’t expect anything.”
My turn to stiffen. Now, that just made me plain mad. She thought I would bolt at the first sign of trouble? “What did he do?” I fought to keep the growl out of my voice but it bled through, deepening my already husky tone.
She sighed again, this time in acceptance. “I might as well tell you, since you’d probably find out anyway, being the sheriff, and, well, with what you did with Luke… It would be nice if someone else was looking out for him, too. Just in case.”
My hands clenched briefly on her shoulders before I forced them to relax. “Nothing is going to happen to you, or Luke. Not while I’m around.” This time the words were a growl, but she didn’t seem to notice, lost in her own thoughts.
“What didn’t he do?” she murmured, and I realized she was answering my original question. “It was fine at first, like a fairytale, people might say. I was from an average family. Only child, older parents. We were comfortable financially; I had everything I wanted, went to a good school, and had a promising career. Then I met him. He swept me off my feet and charmed me into wanting him. Only him. I didn’t realize at the time, but he isolated me, moved me away from my family and friends. He was training me to be a proper society wife, but I thought he loved me, and I just wanted to make him happy, have him be pleased with me. So I did everything he wanted. Acted how he wanted. Wore what he wanted. Then we married, and Luke came along, and we were so happy!” She tensed, her back rigid against me. “Then little things started to upset him. I didn’t look good enough, I still had the baby weight. I was spending too much time with the baby and not enough time with him, going to parties and social events. But I was just so tired! And I wanted to spend time with Luke!”
Silent tears were rolling down her cheeks. Taking a deep breath, she continued, her voice trembling. “He threatened to take Luke away from me, to use his money and connections to destroy any chance I would have of keeping him. Luke would have been about two by then. Such a loving, chunky little thing, who trusted everyone and everything. He would have gone with anyone! So, I tried harder, tried to be what he wanted. I dieted, went to the gym, cleaned the house, went to the parties, and it still wasn’t good enough. He didn’t want me anymore, but he didn’t want me to leave. To be happy. He started parading women in front of me, screwing them in our bed, bringing them back to the house. I started sleeping in Luke’s room. I was trapped, no way out.”
“Your parents?”
“They died just before Luke turned two.” Her voice echoed with the loss, and I felt the pain in my chest.
“Just before he changed?”
“I think he realized I had no escape. No family but him.”
“Did he hit you?” I had to ask. My skin itched with the need to shift, to tear out of the motel and track this monster down.
“No hitting. Just the occasional slap or shove. Just when I wasn’t doing things quite how he liked them.”
A tremor of rage rippled through my body as her voice broke on the word. “Things?”
“Sex and stuff. I didn’t want
to, but he—” Her voice was barely a whisper, broken. “He liked using force. He was sick, and I should have left.”
“Why didn’t you?” My stomach rolled with nausea, revolting at what she had gone through, what she had put up with.
“Luke.”
One word, but it held all the love in the world. She had stayed for her son.
“Why did you leave? Eventually?” Something must have happened, something worse than— I couldn’t go there. I needed to roar at the sky and tear something apart with my bare hands. Why hadn’t I been there? For my mate, when she needed me?
“Luke’s nine now, so he started to pick up on things. But I didn’t think he’d figured so much out. Will was always so careful around him—”
She’d said his name. Will. I stored that piece of information away, burning it into my memory.
“—but Luke was meant to be at a friend’s house, and he was—” Her words choked off, her breathing ragged.
I rubbed her back soothingly, wishing I could pull her to me, try to absorb the pain. But I needed to hear this. She needed to tell me this.
“—he was forcing me…we didn’t hear the door open…and then Luke was on him, screaming and hitting. Trying to get him off me, trying to save me—”
“He had given her a black eye and busted her lip,” Luke added from where he stood at the bathroom door, and Amy jolted with surprise. “Then he broke my hand,” he added, pain bright in his eyes. “Teaching me a lesson, not to interfere with grown-up business. He said that I was nearly a man. That I should understand. Then he kicked me out of the room. And I could hear her screaming.” Tears ran down his face as he looked at his mom.
It was clear to me that he felt he should have done more. Guilt rode the kid hard, but he couldn’t have done anything. Not against a fully grown man.