Thorne Bay

by Jeanine Croft

  “Evan—”

  “Goodbye, Tristan.” I turned back only once, midway down of the road, to make sure he wasn’t following.

  He wasn’t. His arms were folded over his chest, still and watchful as his gaze hounded me.

  I followed the declivitous dirt track all the way back to the cabin. I reached the front door without further mishap, and without being accosted by anymore flaccid man-meat.

  I needed a good shower. All that trouser-less flesh had made me feel icky. Had the world gone mad? Or was I just being a colossal prude?

  By the time I finished my shower my stomach reminded me loudly that it was already nearly lunchtime and I’d still not fed it. Being hangry and lovesick only made me feel nauseous, ergo I’d take care of the former and, therefore, be better able to deal with the latter. My sandwich-making, however, was shortly interrupted by another knock at my door. This one as polite as the first had been rude. So much for ‘hundreds of acres of peaceful rainforest and calming solitude’, I thought with a snarl, throwing the door open.

  Tristan was standing at the threshold, his hands resting casually in his pockets. When I proceeded to do nothing more than glare at him, he gave a snort and shook his head, saying, “Deja vu?”

  “Hardly,” I scoffed. “It’s broad daylight and it’s not raining.” So I had no reason to invite him in, unlike the last time he’d come to my door. Nor would I be showering him with French letters. More importantly, he wasn’t going to kiss himself out of this explanation.

  “So you won’t let me in?” he guessed, leaning a nonchalant shoulder against the doorframe.

  “Will you keep your clothes on?”

  “Only if you want me to…”

  My lip quirked involuntarily. Damn him. After a beat, I stepped aside to let him enter. “Be honest, Tristan. Are you guys living in a nudist colony?”

  “Getting down to brass tacks, huh?” He rubbed the back of his neck. Then, seeming to come to a decision, he asked me a question instead. “Would you have been as horrified if you’d seen us all skinny dipping in a hot tub?”

  I considered his point and shook my head. “No, I guess not. But it’s like thirty degrees outside, and you weren’t in a frigging hot tub.”

  “Semantics.” He lifted a careless shoulder.

  “So you’re saying you’re not in a nudist colony?”

  “Not in a nudist colony and not in a penis colony either.”

  “So you got drunk and fell out of your clothes?”

  “Doesn’t everyone once in a while?”

  “I wouldn’t know.” I left him to follow as I headed back down the hallway to the kitchen.

  “Pity.” He, like Dinwiddie before him, eyed the cold wood stove and shook his head.

  “And stop answering my questions with your own questions.” Sneaky bastard. From the kitchen, I watched him suspiciously as he knelt to inspect the stove. “What’re you doing?”

  “Making sure you don’t catch your death.” He disappeared outside, presumably to the shed because he returned with an armload of wood.

  Distractedly, I watched Tristan’s fire propagate across the logs thinking about what Melissa had once said about Dinwiddie seeing Dean streaking naked across her yard. “Do you guys do that sort of thing often?” I watched him carefully for his answer. “Run naked across people’s yards, I mean.”

  He sat down on one of the stools at the breakfast bar and gave a curt shrug. “I don’t streak across people’s yards, Evan.”

  “Just the woods?”

  He nodded.

  “No wonder this town think’s you’re all in a damn cult. Mrs. Dinwiddie probably spread that rumor herself.”

  He held up his hand with a suspicious frown. “People don’t actually believe that shit, Evan. It’s all just empty talk to amuse one another.”

  “Don’t delude yourself, they one hundred percent do think you’re in some screwy religious faction.” I picked up my unfinished sandwich.

  He leaned back with a stony compression of his lips. “Well, that explains why Mrs. D always looks at me like I’ve eaten her damn poodle.”

  This time I swallowed my food before speaking. “Did you eat her poodle?” I shot him an arch look.

  “Maybe.”

  “Pfft, weirdo.”

  “What does that make you, Evan?” He arched a dark brow, smirking. “You’ve willingly allowed a poodle-eating, nudist weirdo into your house.”

  “You forgot to add werewolf.”

  “I never forget what I am.” His smile turned wolfish as he stood and lazily made his way around the breakfast bar to loom over me. The scent of the forest clung to him.

  “Be serious.” I tried to move backward, sucking my lower lip into my mouth, but the counter barred my retreat.

  “I am very serious about you, Evan. Don’t doubt that.”

  His behavior the night before last suggested otherwise. “Good luck convincing me of that.”

  “The hungrier the wolf”—his arms moved either side of me to cage me against the wall—“the more tenacious he’ll be.”

  20

  Jane Eyre

  I had to tilt my head back to keep eye-contact. My heart gave a traitorous flutter as I tried to stay aloof, but I could already feel myself unraveling beneath his penetrating stare. Beneath that erotic smile. The air lay sultry and thick between us like an amatory vapor. He broke the contact only to lower his eyes to my lips. I felt the press of his stare like a kindling touch. Like a scorching kiss.

  “No,” I said, my palms returning to his chest. His skin was impossibly warm through his shirt.

  “No?”

  I’d have sounded more convincing if I wasn’t staring at his mouth. “Yes.”

  “Yes?”

  I shut my eyes so that his sexy smile couldn’t mess with my fragile equilibrium anymore. “No,” I said again. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Like running naked through someone’s yard maybe.

  “I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.”

  I folded my arms. “Remember what you promised that night you kissed me?”

  “Yes.”

  “So what do you want from me?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” His eyes seemed to glow with latent heat.

  “I said stop answering my questions with more questions.” I poked a finger at his chest to punctuate the command and shot him a warning look that dared him to ask another one. “And keep your lips to yourself.”

  He cocked his head playfully. “Why?”

  For once his smile had the opposite effect on me. “Because you’ll break my heart.” My lips gave a devastating tremble. “Because your mood swings are giving me whiplash.”

  His demeanor hardened instantly. “My mood swings?”

  “Hot one moment and then cold the next.” There was a sudden burning pressure of tears behind my eyes. “I don’t know the rules of whatever game you’re playing.”

  “Evan—”

  “Please,” I begged, wanting to spill my guts before I thought better of it, “I just want to know one thing: are you ashamed to be with me?”

  “What? No!” He dropped his hands and moved away from me, looking poleaxed.

  “Then why did you ignore me in the bar?”

  Clouds gathered over his eyes and his mouth flattened ruefully. “Maybe some sick part of me wanted you to hate me so that I’d be forced to keep my distance.” He gave a terse lift of one shoulder as he glanced around the kitchen. “Clearly, that backfired. I can’t seem to stay away.”

  “You made me feel like I meant nothing to you. I was prepared to be ‘just friends’ like you said, but then you changed the rules with that kiss! I don’t know where I stand with you from one second to the next. Do you think I’ll make a tit of myself in front of your family? Is that it?”

  He shook his head firmly. “You’ve got it all backward.”

  My brows rose dubiously as I crossed my arms. “Oh? Surprise me then.”

  “I worry that you’ll reje
ct me once you get to know me and my family.”

  “That’s ridiculous! You shut me out the minute your brother and friends showed up the other night.”

  “My family are the ones I don’t trust around you. They’re suspicious of outsiders. I don’t want them scaring you off.” He backed away and leaned against the kitchen sink to face me. “But they know how I feel about you, Evan.”

  “They do?” That surprised me.

  He nodded.

  “Lucky them because I sure as hell don’t know how you feel.”

  The light from the kitchen window seemed to infuse his eyes with some eerie glow as they fixed themselves to my lips. “It’s kinda hard to keep secrets in our family. I tried to deny what I feel around you”—his nose flared as he drew near again—“but every lie has a certain scent.”

  “Really?” I searched his face.

  “Yes, and so does every truth.” He dropped his forehead gently to mine. “The truth is I need you. You’re in my blood, Evan—I’m addicted to what you make me feel.”

  “And what is that?”

  “Pure animal lust.” His voice deepened, and a violent conflagration seemed to roar in his eyes as he held my gaze. “It’s all I can do to keep it leashed around you.” His breathing intensified. “You’re just as dangerous to me as I am to you.”

  I felt my heart ignite with the primal force of that gaze. My tongue thickened in my mouth. All speech failed me.

  Then he shut his eyes a moment, dousing the fire, and gave a shuddering sigh. “But you’d be so much better off without me. I’m no good for you. All I seem to do is hurt and disappoint you every time I try to pull away. Every time I try to do what’s right for you.”

  “Stop trying then.” My hands were trembling with need. I felt it too—this ferocious desire for him. I was overcome with it. “Let me decide what’s in my best interest.”

  “You might regret me later.”

  “No.”

  “You sure about that? There might be no going back after today.”

  I had tried and failed to stay angry at him. It wasn’t in my nature to be angry though. Could I give him one last chance? Or would that be fatal? Were my hormones leading me to a dangerous precipice?

  “Be sure, Evan.” His mouth was hovering just above mine, his eyes burning with the same intensity I felt in my belly. He wanted my final answer. “This time I won’t pull away again. You have my word.”

  “Yes,” I whispered, wetting my lips. I wasn’t sure what exactly I was agreeing to, the sexual fog had so obliterated my mind. I craved his kisses.

  He slanted his warm lips instantly over mine, one hand cradling my head while the other splayed at the small of my back. Sapid heat radiated through my flesh. Each stroke of his tongue charged my flesh with sparking current. Beneath my fingers, his heart echoed deep and resonant. I could feel its rhythm, erotic and obliterating, as it quickened through my body. When he pulled his lips from mine I sagged against him, breathless, my head dropping to his chest.

  “What were we talking about again?” My voice was thick with desire.

  He guided my chin up with his finger and then ran his thumb over my bottom lip where he’d graze it with his teeth. “Just that you deserve better than me.”

  “I’m gonna need more convincing of that.”

  I’d no sooner said the words than he’d fused our lips again, lifting me up and planting me on the edge of the kitchen island to stand between my legs. A sharp yank of his hands behind my knees and my pelvis was flush against his, my legs wrapping instantly around his waist. This kiss was far less bridled. I could feel the pressure of what lay behind his straining zipper. His mouth was ravening and bruising. I felt claimed. My blood spiked as my lips and tongue matched his frenzy.

  I groaned into his mouth and he answered with a satisfied growl. Then his jaw, hard and bristled, grazed my neck as he worked his way down my throat. I angled my head back to give him better access, baring my throat to him. My hips moved involuntarily, grinding against his, my shins sliding up of their own volition. Each of my hands seemed to have a mind of its own, one fisting in his dark hair while the other clutched at his shoulder. The harder I clawed at his flesh the more his control seemed to slip. He devoured every inch of my skin with searing lips and raking teeth.

  Tristan’s hand slid up under my shirt, his fingers gliding up over of my ribs like the chords of a guitar, drawing closer and closer to my aching nipple. Suddenly he was there, pulling my bra aside to drag a calloused thumb over my pebbled flesh. He cupped my breast with his hot palm. My chest heaved with exquisite moans. The fire licked and coiled where my pelvis moved against his. Tristan’s mouth sought mine again, our breaths mingling. Everywhere he touched I shivered.

  Was I really about to make love to a man—this man—right here above the cutlery drawer, amidst the tea stains and bread crumbs? I’d already given myself permission… But there were still things unresolved.

  Having sensed my sudden hesitation, Tristan released me. His eyes were a molten topaz as he searched mine.

  “Okay,” I said raggedly, pushing him away, “I’m convinced.” Almost. I needed a breather to think.

  “Yay, me.” He grimaced, adjusting himself as he put some space between us.

  “Down boy.” The smile didn’t quite reach my eyes. I allowed myself to really look at him, searching for flaws. There was a small mole on the side of his nose, but even that was beautiful. Could an eagle really love a sparrow? There was no question that he already owned me, I was his if he wanted me. But could he truly ever be mine? Why choose me when he could have Nicole? Because she’s a bitch, came the uncharitable answer. Well, that was true enough.

  His keen eyes had caught the flicker of doubt in my expression. “But you’re not convinced, are you?” Ostensibly feeling stonewalled by my silence, his brows dropped lower. “You’re a suspicious woman, Ev.”

  As far as his gender was concerned I had every right to be. I wasn’t a misandrist, though. Not all men were fucknuts. I just didn’t want to be too reckless with my heart. And there was still the question of his secrets. “What are you hiding?” I wanted to ask but didn’t. Instead, I said, “I don't get how you think you’re no good for me.”

  He folded his arms over his chest, a taciturn crease at his mouth. “What don’t you get exactly?”

  “I mean you’re you—” my hand gestured meaningfully between us “—and I’m me.” Surely he understood how incredible that was.

  “Well, I'm glad we clarified that,” he deadpanned.

  “I’m like Jane Eyre and you’re…freakishly handsome.”

  “Well, thanks.”

  “You can have anyone. What the hell d’you want with me?”

  “Who’s Jane?”

  “What?!” I choked. “Okay, now we definitely can’t be friends.”

  “I don’t want to be your friend, Evan.” He was looking at me like he wanted to devour me.

  Blushing, I explained, “Jane Eyre is a plain-looking victorian woman who falls in love with a man already married to a lunatic.”

  “Fascinating,” he said dryly. “But I still don’t see a problem here. You’re not plain and I’m not married. Not even to a lunatic.”

  “Tristan—”

  He planted a firm “end of discussion” kiss on my parted lips and then helped me off the counter. “Now that I’ve brainwashed you with my freakish looks we can go meet the cult leader.”

  “Huh?”

  “Wanna come play in the nudist colony for a bit?”

  The penis colony? “Um—”

  He threaded our fingers. “I’m asking you, officially, to meet my family, Ev. Whatever it takes to prove to you that I really like you.” He pressed his lips to my ear. “Say yes.”

  A small smile pulled shyly at the corner of my mouth. “Yes.”

  “And as to ‘what I want with you’, it’s simple: I just want you. And I wish you saw yourself as I see you.”

  “How do you see me?”
>
  “With my eyes.” He laughed as I elbowed him. “Come on, beautiful. Let’s hit the road, shall we?” The way he was looking at me certainly made me feel beautiful.

  “Beautiful?” I wanted to throw confetti and cartwheel across the kitchen.

  “And funny and sweet—even when you’re pelting condoms at me.”

  “Ugh, am I never gonna live that down?”

  “Nope.” Grinning, he pulled me behind him as he strolled from the kitchen.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “I told you, to the compound.” He smirked.

  “Wait, I gotta grab a jacket.” I started for the bedroom, but he caught me around the waist and yanked me back for more steamy lip-locking.

  “Those are some sticky lips you have there, Mr. Thorn, I can’t seem to get them off my face,” I chuckled.

  He gave my butt an affectionate slap then grabbed his keys from the counter where he’d left them earlier. “I’ll be outside.” He headed for the front door.

  “Wait, is it too early in the day for favors?” I asked, suddenly remembering the Yukon’s dead battery.

  “I don’t do sexual favors on Tuesdays.”

  “Pfft, it’s your truck’s stamina I’m after not yours.”

  “What’s up?” There was a knowing grin creasing his eyes, almost daring me to look at his crotch.

  Eyes up, Evan. “I got distracted last night and left the lights on in the Yukon and drained the battery.”

  “Distracted? Dare I ask?”

  “I thought I saw…” I had no idea what I’d seen actually. “Something was watching me last night. Two things at least. I locked myself in the house and was too much of a wussy to rescue my groceries and backpack till this morning.”

  “There probably was something out there watching you. You're in the boonies now. There are eyes everywhere.” He affected a creepy leer, dragging his eyes down the length of me. “God knows I like watching you.”

  I gave him a leer of my own. “Would you please stop distracting me with your creepy flirting, so I can jump my car.”

  He snorted. “I’ll go jump your car, you go get your jacket.”