by James, Gemma
And I was home.
Because home was with Rafe—whether at his side in a tunnel or chained to his bed in a safe house or on his lap in a vehicle in the middle of nowhere. The bittersweet reunion streaked down my cheeks in hot, salty tears, and he broke the kiss long enough to catch them on his tongue.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“Not more than I love you.”
His hands came up to frame my damp cheeks. “You’re my hero, Alex. You harbor so much strength inside your heart.” His lips pressed against mine for a few brief seconds. “I’m in awe of you.”
“Why?”
“Because you were strong enough to put Zach where he fucking belongs. You got away, baby, and your tenacity saved my ass.”
“I’m crazy about your ass.”
He gripped my bottom, hips thrusting upward until his hard-on rubbed me through our clothing. “Everything about you drives me crazy.”
As I worked the button on his pants free, a keening whine escaped me. “I need you.”
His hand covered mine, stalling me as I moved to unzip him. “I’m covered in blood and dirt.”
“I don’t care.”
“I care. Let me get out of these clothes.”
Scooting my ass onto the center console, I waited while he removed his jeans and tank, then I attacked him, urgency simmering my blood. I needed to feel him inside me, his cock snug where it belonged, filling me with the reality of his presence.
With the reality that we’d made it, had found our way back to each other, and now I needed him to erase the horror of these past few days.
As if he heard my mental plea—shared in it, even—he pushed me against the steering wheel, and the horn blared, echoing off the deserted landscape. Our eyes locked and held, sparking with mutual desire as he tugged my pants down my thighs. I shrugged out of the muddy denim, and he reached for the hem of my tee, yanking it over my head until I sat on his lap in nothing but my undergarments.
Instead of clearing my arms of the shirt, he used it to restrain my hands above my head, and a furrow formed between his brows as his attention lowered to the space between my breasts. Keeping one hand on the shirt holding me hostage, he fisted the key dangling in my cleavage. “This belongs to me.”
“So do I.”
He frowned, knuckles going white as he clutched the key that meant so much between us. Uncertainty infused his eyes as he searched my face. “We don’t have to do this right now.”
The reasons for waiting were plentiful. I still felt Zach’s imprint on my soul, could fucking smell the memory of him on me, wafting off my skin in a phantom scent that made me nauseous. Rafe and I had things to talk about, and new scars that needed time to heal, but maybe the biggest reason lay in the secret I had yet to spill.
“I want you,” I whispered, pushing all the reasons to the back of my mind to be dealt with later. Right now, I needed him, thirsted for the anesthetic of his punishing love. “Fuck me…and don’t be gentle about it.”
Imparting a low, sexy growl, he let go of the key, and it dropped between my breasts again. He finished removing the shirt trapping my wrists, and I lowered my palms to his chest as he unhooked the back clasp on my bra. Inching the cups down, leaving the straps hanging off my shoulders, he took my sensitive nipples between thumb and forefinger and applied pressure until I squirmed on his lap.
“Are you wet for me?”
“God yes.”
He swiped my panties to the side, cock teasing my opening, and again, he gave me that look.
The one full of hesitation and apology.
“I want you inside me, Rafe.”
With a quick thrust, he pushed into me, and our chests came together, skin-to-skin. Foreheads touched, green eyes locked on green eyes. Deep moans rent the air between us, sparking the atmosphere with a union so sacrilegious, I wondered if we’d spontaneously combust. My heartbeat doubled, and I exhaled in shallow puffs with each drive of my hips. There was no better high than becoming one with Rafe.
Slowing the pace, he brushed his lips against mine in a kiss full of sweet longing. Of apologetic sorrow. “I’m so sorry I left you there.”
“Stop apologizing,” I said through gritted teeth. “I don’t want your sorrow. I want you to make it hurt.”
“Why, baby? You need to talk to me.”
“I can’t.”
His eyes shuttered, and even in the dimness of night, I detected the slashes of self-flagellation on his face. “What did that bastard do to you?”
I shook my head, firmly planted in the land of denial. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It fucking matters.”
“It doesn’t. Just fuck me.”
Pulling the lever on the side of the seat, he reclined, then he grabbed me by the hips and bounced me on his cock, each forceful downward angle designed to plunder and bruise. It was rough and animalistic, and I groaned with every thrust—a cross between pain and pleasure.
“Is this how you want it?” Frustration laced his tone, though I wasn’t sure if it was directed at me or himself. We both knew that after the dust settled from this frenzy, and the real world coalesced with the bubble we’d created, we would be forced to confront the shit neither of us wanted to face.
Arching his hips, he made me take his entire length, hands holding me immobile as he stalled inside me. “I asked you a question.”
“Yes!” I cried. “Don’t stop.”
“Tell me what he did to you.”
Shaking my head, I tried crawling off of his lap, but he wouldn’t allow it, and his cock stayed right where it was, planted deep inside me.
So deep I couldn’t ignore the connection between us. Couldn’t avoid or escape it.
“Tell me,” he insisted.
“He fucked me.”
Rafe tugged me down by the hair, and my trembling mouth almost met his. “No, sweetheart. You’re using the wrong word.” Tone a soft caress on my lips, he framed my cheeks between warm hands. “Zach raped you.”
I couldn’t swallow, couldn’t breathe. Blinking rapidly, I did my damndest to stave off the threat of fresh tears, but my composure fissured, guilt sprouting from the cracks. Burying my face in the crook of his shoulder, I gave in to the sobs wracking my soul.
“He made me come,” I choked out, heart cracking at having to admit that to him.
His breath hitched. “Is that why you’re punishing yourself?”
“I deserve to be punished.”
“You survived.”
Barely. If not for Zach’s over-confidence, I might not have found an opportunity to take him down. The outcome would have been horribly different, and I would have been somewhere else right now, facing Zach and his sick obsession for the rest of my life.
A shiver traveled through me, and Rafe tightened his arms, banding his love and strength around me until I had no hope for escape.
Not that I wanted to.
Our bodies were still joined—still wet and hard despite the sorrow of our hearts—and we couldn’t help but respond to the desire floating under the surface, begging us to dive in and find comfort in each other.
To begin healing.
He guided my hips with sure hands, nudging me past the guilt, bringing me all the way home, and I moaned against the feverish skin on his neck as the pressure inside me built. But I wasn’t ready to take the next step into renewal.
“Don’t let me come.”
“You need to.”
“No.”
He pulled on my hair, bringing us face-to-face again. “Who’s in charge of your orgasms?”
“You are.”
“Then come for me.” His fingers traced the seam of my mouth before dipping inside, leaving his salty taste on my tongue. “Don’t let him take this from us.”
The hot sensation of our joined bodies won out, and I let my eyes drift shut, submitting to the urge to just feel.
“Babe, look at me.” Slipping his fingers from between my lips, he palmed my cheek as I
lifted my lids. “Stay with me.” His plea held a raspy edge that zapped straight to my core, and God, it felt so fucking good when he was inside me like this.
I was tempted to pinch myself, to make sure I was actually here and not back on the island enslaved to Zach.
“He said I’d never feel you like this again.”
“He can’t hurt you anymore. I’m here, Alex. I’m with you every step of the way.”
A shudder born of trauma, heartache, and ecstasy roiled through me, and I claimed his mouth, needing that intimate connection as I allowed the heat between us to combust. I contracted around his cock, my orgasm seizing my limbs for several long and blissful seconds I hoped would never end.
For a while, I thought they wouldn’t. The waves were endless, toe-curling, soul-consuming. Rafe followed on the tail end of the first crest, arching up to meet me as our unbridled cries vibrated in the tangle of tongues.
18. HOME SWEET HOME
Rafe
The shift in Alex’s demeanor on the way home was gradual, becoming more pronounced the closer we got to Dante’s Pass. I left the SUV in the parking lot at the boat launch site, like Jax instructed, and found my boat docked in the small marina where he said it would be.
Considering how quiet Alex had been since hitting Interstate 84, I wasn’t sure how she’d handle crossing the river. She wasn’t as terrified of water like she used to be, and she even knew how to swim, but the phobia still existed under the surface, much like the craving for a strong drink sprang up from time to time for an alcoholic.
But she handled the ride across the Columbia River with a degree of stoicism that bordered on impressive, and that pushed the needle on my worry meter up another notch.
I remembered the despair in her voice and the hopelessness in her eyes as we fucked in the car, and the memory made me want to pound on something.
Or someone.
I hoped like hell Zach hadn’t broken her, but the true test lay ahead on a patch of land that had been renovated to give us the fresh start we’d hoped for.
Pulling up to the island’s private dock, I secured the boat before grabbing her hand. “Ready?”
She nodded, but I sensed all she didn’t say. There was no easy way to return to the trauma of this place, to face the remnants of horror, not to mention the real life monster in the cellar. That first step inside felt oddly normal. The cabin seemed undisturbed, everything in its place, until I tried ushering Alex upstairs.
“I can’t,” she said, digging in her heels. She wrenched her hand from mine and folded herself inside the safety of her own embrace, and I hated how she backed away, putting inches of space and emotional barriers between us. I glanced toward the ceiling, envisioning the loft bedroom and the ensuite bathroom, and wondered what kind of special hell Zach had put her through up there.
A huge part of me didn’t want to know, certain I couldn’t handle all the details, though I’d force them out of her eventually if she didn’t spill on her own accord.
“It’s okay. We’ll sleep on the couch tonight,” I said, directing her toward the bathroom on the main floor. “But we need a shower first.” She didn’t argue as I switched on the spray. Mud-caked jeans and blood-stained clothing dropped to the floor, and we stepped underneath the hot water.
Expression subdued, Alex traced the split in my lip and the discoloring on my cheekbone. “Does it hurt?”
“Not too bad.” I grabbed a bar of soap and worked up a lather in my hands before running my soapy palms over her body. She sighed as I turned her around and massaged her shoulders.
“Jax said it was a death match.”
“It was.”
The next few seconds stabbed at my conscience.
“So the other guy is…?”
“Dead.” The admission was a choked finality on my breath, void of absolution. “So is Shelton.”
“Rafe…” She whirled around and took my abused face between her hands. “You survived. Isn’t that what you told me?”
I blinked the spray of the shower from my lashes. “I did what I had to so Will could go home. Doesn’t mean I’m okay with taking another life, especially someone who didn’t deserve it.”
“But Shelton deserved it.”
“The guy I choked tonight in the cage didn’t.”
“You didn’t have a choice.”
“We all have choices, just like I made the choice to leave you here less than twenty-four-hours after I promised to love you forever.”
“Does that promise still hold true?”
“Of course it does, baby. But that doesn’t mean you should forgive—”
Her lips on mine shut me up, and her temptress fingers wrapping around my cock obliterated thought. Thrusting my tongue into her mouth, I groaned into the kiss as we stumbled across the stall to the opposite wall.
I gripped her by the ass and pushed into her as her legs tightened around me. Her cunt gloved me to madness, igniting a frenzy that rivaled our desperation in the SUV. I pumped into her violently, shoving her up the slick tile as the shower spray cocooned us in steam.
“I’m gonna come,” she gasped, severing our lips.
“Damn right you are.”
There was no guilt, no hesitation holding her hostage this time—she contracted around me, eyes squeezed shut as her lips parted in a breathless cry. I was pretty sure those sexy lips formed my name, and her surrender spawned my own release, pulling it from me with the strength of a wrench. My fingers dug into her skin, jerking her tight against me as I spilled inside her.
Afterward, we clung to each other, breathing hard, still joined as we came down from the intensity of the moment. Eventually, her legs slid from around my waist, and she planted her feet on the ground. I pushed her wet, tangled locks off of her forehead.
Words weren’t needed.
Not with the way she looked at me, eyes red from the tears she’d spilled, lids heavy from exhaustion. We finished washing up, then I wrapped her in a towel and carried her to the sofa. The hour was late, past three in the morning. She settled on one end and curled into a ball, falling asleep almost immediately. I grabbed a quilt from the linen closet, and she didn’t stir as I spread the blanket over her resting body.
Leaning down, I pressed a kiss to her temple, and that’s when I remembered the gold chain around her neck. Gently lifting her, I worked the key over her head and pulled it over mine, where it belonged.
A trip upstairs revealed the disaster of our bedroom, and the rumpled sheets on our bed drew my eye, stirring my anger. The restraint system straps hung to the floor, a vision of mockery because I knew what they’d been used for.
Thank God I hadn’t forced her up here.
I grabbed the first pair of sleep pants I found and dressed before heading back downstairs. The kitchen held additional horrors. During the trip home, Alex told me what to expect near the breakfast nook, so I’d known there was a bloody mess to deal with, but knowing about it and seeing it were two very different things. I mopped up Zach’s downfall then made the bastard a sandwich, since he’d gone without food for two days, and I wouldn’t stoop to his level.
Not yet.
Not until I decided what to do with him.
Flipping the light on in the cellar, I found him sprawled on the cot inside the prison I’d designed for Alex. When I’d had that space built, I sure as fuck hadn’t intended for Zach to end up in it, wearing the shock collar I’d purchased as a last-resort idea to keep her safe, should she ever get fancy ideas in her head that would put her in danger.
Instead, I’d been the asshole to put her in danger, and I’d do everything in my power to make up for it for the rest of my life.
Zach stirred with a groan, and when he rolled over and faced me, I did a double-take. His date with Alex’s skillet, not to mention Jax’s fists, had done a real number on him. Matted blood covered the left side of his head, and his right eye was swollen shut.
Sauntering to the bars separating us, I tossed the plastic stor
age bag containing two PB&Js onto the concrete floor. “Wouldn’t want you to die from starvation.”
Though he deserved that and more.
Zach tumbled off the cot and crawled toward the food, his eyes flicking up to meet mine every couple of seconds.
“No thank-yous, huh?” I said as he began scarfing down the first sandwich.
“Don’t do me any fucking favors,” he mumbled, a scowl in his tone.
“I didn’t.” Returning his scowl, I clasped my hands at my back and stared down my nose at him. “Alex did. She turned the water back on before she left to come get me, which was more than you did for her. You’d be dead if she’d matched your sense of empathy.”
His attention veered behind me, and he didn’t have to voice the question.
“You think she wants to see you after everything you did?”
With a frown, he started in on the second PB&J. “She cares about me. Why else would she turn the water back on?”
“Did you care about the spiders you used to release outdoors?”
“I cared enough not to kill them.”
“Some people like to catch insects and put them in jars. That’s what you are right now—a bug in a jar.” A sadistic smile pulled at my lips. “Trapped and vulnerable to a kid with a magnifying glass and enough sunlight.”
“So you’re gonna torture me, is that it?”
“I’m not gonna do anything. I’ll leave your fate up to Alex.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Her choice might surprise you.” A hint of a smile twitched at his lips, and I wanted to wipe it off his face with my fist. I didn’t buy into his delusions for a second, but just the idea that he thought he could win her over after the hell he’d put her through—not just in the past several days but for years—sent rage rushing through my veins.
“Alex is stronger than you ever gave her credit for. I have no doubt she’ll make the right decision.”
It didn’t matter how much I knew deep in my gut that Alex despised this mother fucker—his smug certainty followed me upstairs, haunting every breath long after I shut off the light and slammed the door.