Hard Reality

by Debra Kayn

  Wait.

  What?

  During the time she'd panicked, she had no idea it was Rich laying on top of her. She'd seen, felt, heard, smelled Roy Jenson. She'd totally lost herself.

  She wrapped her arms around her middle. "What do you mean, it's happened to you?"

  He shook his head. "I couldn't let you go when you're like that, Gracie. Believe it or not, I was protecting you, and if you hate me—"

  "I don't hate you." She inhaled deeply, settling her upset stomach. "I can see—now that it's over that you weren't trying to hurt me. That the things I was feeling and seeing were things that'd happened...back then."

  Rich stared at her. He'd witnessed a side of her she'd hidden from everyone else, even her twin sister. She'd never had that intimate connection with anyone else in her life who understood the absolute sick feeling of experiencing something so horrid again and again.

  Ashamed at her weakness, she asked, "Did I hurt you?"

  "No."

  She swallowed. "There was blood on—"

  "A little nose bleed," he said softly.

  He would've let her shoot him. Out of everything she'd gone through with him, she couldn't forget what it felt like to hold her finger on the trigger, ready to shoot. All because she couldn't control her fears of being abducted again.

  He'd stood in front of her, unafraid of dying. If he hadn't gotten through to her...

  "I'm scared," she whispered.

  "Can I come over there and hold you?"

  She nodded and realized he couldn't see her. "Yes," she whispered.

  He walked over to her, lifted her to her feet, and wrapped his strong arms around her. "I'm scared, too," he whispered back. "Cause I can't stop how I feel about you."

  "Then, don't."

  "I have to." He kissed the top of her head, and his arms tightened. "Unless you want to ride on the back of my bike and ride away with me. Just you and me."

  She pulled her head off his chest and gazed up at him, hating the lack of lights, because she wanted to see if he was serious or not. "My sister is here, and —"

  He shushed her. "I'd never ask you to leave your family."

  "You could stay in St. John's." She grabbed on to the front of his shirt, a thought hitting her square in the stomach. "Are you afraid I'll hurt you? Cause I'll try not to freak out when I'm with you. I'll give the pistols back to Chuck and get them out of the house. I-it's too dangerous to have them around me when someone else is living with me, and I knew that."

  He cupped her face. She pressed her cheek into the palm of his hand. Her life wasn't set in stone. She could change, and if he lived with her, the irrational fears that plagued her were better. She was safer.

  "I'm a drunk. I like being a drunk." He kissed her softly. "I've done things that..."

  She stood on her toes, hope filling her that he was finally going to share that private part of himself. "What?"

  He gave a shake of his head. "I'll be done with the room in a week, give or take a couple days. I want this time with you."

  "I want to be with you, too." She kissed him back. "Completely."

  His chest expanded. She lowered her arms and wound her fingers in his, tugging him with her toward the stairs.

  He climbed the steps. She looked over her shoulder, smiling, and finally seen him in the light coming from upstairs. Then, she saw the results from earlier marked on his face and stumbled.

  Rich caught her before she could completely fall on the stairs. "Easy."

  He helped her into her room. She turned the light on and studied him. Any arousal that'd developed downstairs disappeared at the sight of the fingernail scratches below his eye and his swollen nose.

  She covered her mouth and rocked back on the heels of her feet. Rich grimaced and his gaze softened. Lowering her hands, she said, "I'm so—"

  "Don't." His gaze intensified. "Don't you get it? I would put the gun in your hand and let you shoot me if it took away some of your pain."

  "Rich," she breathed, not sure she even spoke until he leaned closer.

  The kiss she expected never came. His breath warmed her face, and he gazed into her eyes. She stared up into the softness he only gave her.

  "Close your eyes," he said.

  She closed her eyes.

  "Inhale through your nose."

  She sniffed. A hint of emotionally-charged man teased her senses, and she inhaled longer.

  His hands landed on her ribs. "Now, touch me."

  She laid her hands on his chest. When he held still, she sprawled her fingers and roamed wider and higher, cupping his shoulders, and trailing her hands down his arms.

  "That's me." He lowered his head and put his lips to her ear. "Know me with your eyes opened and closed. In the light and the dark, honey."

  Her eyes snapped open at the clenching of her pussy in response. "What if I panic?"

  He nibbled her earlobe. "Then, panic. I'll keep you safe."

  She raised her hands and cupped his face, holding on to his beard. Tugging him down, she gently kissed his lips. He kept his life secret from everyone but willingly gave her his patience and understanding. She couldn't imagine the amount of pain or hurt or experience he hid that would make him the man he was where he could give her so much without giving himself away.

  While he kissed her, his fingers slid down and hooked the waistband of her jeans, tugging them to her hips. She stroked his tongue with hers and shimmied her ass back and forth, helping him remove her pants.

  As the material fell, she pulled back and caught his eyes darkening as he took in her bare legs.

  He squatted in front of her and lifted her ankle. She placed her hand on his hair and balanced from one foot to the other until he'd unclothed her lower half.

  Rich stood and took off his shirt. Her lower stomach warmed, and she rubbed her knees together. Attuned to her, he didn't miss a thing. He slipped his finger under the front of her panties. A smaller-thinner-sexier pair of panties than she'd normally wear, a daily habit she'd started since she'd had sex with Rich the first time in hopes it would happen again.

  He pulled the material higher, slithering the string between her legs. She almost came at the friction. Slowly, he backed her to the bed without taking his gaze off her eyes.

  "Not going to get on top of you, honey." He guided her to the bed. "I'm going to lick your pussy."

  She leaned back and propped herself on her elbows, looking down her body to him lowering himself. He kneeled on the floor at her feet, and she inhaled deeply, relaxing. She lifted her hips, expecting him to pull off her panties and instead, he hooked a finger into the string between her legs and pulled the material to the side.

  As if hypnotized by his confidence around her considering the last time he took her to bed, she watched his mouth draw nearer. She sucked in her breath and held it before his tongue flicked out and touched her.

  A rush filled her, and the tension in her body eased with the second swipe. She widened her legs and let her upper body fall to the mattress. Needing to know where he was, she slid her hand into his thick hair and muffled a moan.

  He grunted. The vibration against her sex went in her.

  In her.

  God.

  That felt so good.

  Her leg came up, and she dug her heel into his lower back, pressing herself against his mouth. He took the offering and rubbed his lips against her, sucking, licking, nibbling. Her hand came loose from his hair, and she quickly grabbed on again.

  Rich reached around her hips and slithered his hands under her shirt, over her stomach, and squeezed her breasts. Her eyes fought to close and she struggled to keep them open as the assault of pleasure washed over her.

  His mouth came off her. "Doing okay?"

  "Mm-hm." She gulped.

  He gave her his voice.

  Running his thumbs over her hardened nipples, he went back between her legs and caught her clit between his lips. She squirmed, not to get away, but to...to...because it felt wonderful. />
  She moaned, giving up holding on to his hair and grabbed the comforter.

  He darted his tongue inside and then back to her clit. She grabbed her head, pulling at her hair, caught between letting herself get swallowed up in pleasure or waiting a second more. Two seconds more. Three seconds more.

  She wrapped her leg around his shoulder and panted. "Rich."

  His hands left her breasts and went down to her hips, guiding the rhythm. Her back arched and she could no longer control when, where, how it would happen.

  It happened then.

  Powerfully.

  Wave after wave of the highest high. Peaking until she finally exhaled in a rush, and rode her orgasm down.

  Her back relaxed. Rich wiped his mouth off on her inner thigh. She raised her head and watched him stand and reach deep into his front pocket. His cock, visibly straining against the denim, forced reality to sink in.

  "I don't have any condoms," she blurted.

  He pulled out his hand. Between two fingers, he held a small, square package. "Found a few of them in the guest bedroom when searching your house today. I put one in my pocket hoping I'd have a chance to use it with you."

  His admission acted like a match, starting a fire. She shuddered, sitting up, wanting to touch him. But, Rich wouldn't let her sit at the end of the bed and look up at him. He pulled her to her feet, and she wobbled. Her stomach fluttered. Her heart skipped a beat. Her breath hitched. She wanted to laugh, cry.

  He'd brought her back up to an equal level, and the knowledge that he knew having someone hovering over her could set her off, that he put her first, that she needed to see him, and yet have a way out, only made her fall in love with him more.

  Yes, she was falling in love.

  Call her crazy, delusional, hopeful, she could end up loving him.

  "Can I?" She flicked her gaze down to his hands at his zipper and back up to his mouth where he held the protection. At his nod, she took the condom out of his mouth and went back to watching him pull down his jeans.

  Like before, he let them fall naturally past his hips, but her attention was quickly drawn to the hard cock in front of her. She hadn't had a chance to look at him the first time, and she was amazed that after going years without sex, he'd fit so perfectly inside of her.

  Circumcised, large, hard, and beautiful, his cock stood proudly out for her to admire. Condom forgotten, she wrapped her fingers around his width. When his erection pulsed in her hand, she caught her lower lip between her teeth. He was magnificent.

  Rich shuffled around her, sat on the bed, and laid back. "Roll it on, honey."

  She leaned over him and put the condom on him. Wanting to keep touching him, she rubbed his thighs and looked at his face and caught him watching her. She never knew a man could look so intense and tender at the same time, but Rich owned it.

  He crooked his finger and in his whiskers, his lips curved. Encouraged, she climbed on top of his body and straddled him. His cock rubbed her sex, and she reached down between her legs and held his hardness as she lowered herself.

  Wet from her orgasm, she slid all the way down until he filled her. Then, up.

  Rich grabbed her hips. She stopped and looked at him.

  "You're going to make me come," he said.

  Happiness filled her. "Faster?"

  Say yes. Please.

  His grip loosened on her and he caressed the underside of her thighs. "Do your damage, honey."

  And, she did because she enjoyed the way he struggled to hold out on her. She did because the slight tremor in his hands touched her heart. She did because right now they were together and they were both connected, and nothing and nobody could take that away from them.

  Her skin warmed. Panting, her stomach quivered tighter, and her legs weakened. Her pussy, already sensitive, convulsed drawing a groan from Rich.

  His hips shot off the bed as he said, "Gracie."

  Unable to hold herself up, she sat completely down and absorbed each hard pulse as he released, and he sucked in air.

  She gazed at Rich as he looked up at her. There were a million things she wanted to tell him, which brought a million questions she wanted to ask him. All of them could wait because she knew in her heart that everything she needed, right that second, was in front of her, trying to figure out his life so he could keep her.

  Chapter 31

  Gracie peeked her head into the guest room. "Hey, you."

  Rich looked up from cutting the strip of drywall tape, and his gut tightened. He'd heard the doorbell ring earlier and expected someone else. "What's up?"

  "Chuck's downstairs," she said.

  "So?"

  "So...he wants to come up and talk to you." She stepped into the room. "Will you see him?"

  He shrugged. She'd never asked before.

  "He probably wants to see the room," he said.

  "Maybe." She stepped up to the pile of tools and held out her hand to him.

  Instead of watching her struggle to step over the clutter, he spanned her waist with his hands and picked her up, helping her over the stepstool, cans of paint, and mud buckets. Barely on her feet again, she leaned into him. He kissed her and then said, "Can you grab me a drink?"

  She frowned. He reached up and smoothed her brows.

  "Water." He dipped his chin to look at her closer, making her aware that alcohol would always be a part of his life.

  At the moment, he wasn't drinking. But, he wanted a drink. He needed a drink to deal with Chuck.

  Most of all, he wanted to deal with Chuck alone and giving Gracie an errand got her out of the room.

  "Sure." She kissed him quickly. "Sorry."

  He helped her navigate over the supplies. Alone in the room, he closed the razor knife in his hand and picked up the strip of drywall paper, placing it on the wall between the seams.

  A knock came behind him. "Need a hand?" asked Chuck.

  "Nope. I'm good." He'd already spent too much time with the members of Notus.

  "If I remember right, you suck at drywall." Chuck picked up the tub of sheetrock mud and opened the top. "It took you and Thad half the summer to repair the Bowers' garage when you stole Mr. B's truck and backed into the support pole."

  He flattened his hand and smoothed out the seam. "We were fourteen years old. Didn't know fuck about repairing anything."

  An uncomfortable silence fell between the two men. Rich cut the rest of the strips of paper tape, handing them to Chuck who pressed them on the wall. Once the mud dried, all he had to do was sand, paint, and put the molding back on. He'd be done in three days, tops.

  "Remember Robert Brando?" asked Chuck.

  Rich wiped his hand on his jeans. The name sounded familiar.

  "Bobby Brando." Chuck hooked his hands under his armpits.

  A flash of a sixty-nine Mustang came. He nodded. "His dad owned the corner store."

  "Yeah. Bobby was a few years younger than us." Chuck exhaled heavily. "He works down at Port Loaders with us. His daughter's missing."

  "What are you telling me for?" He walked across the room and wound up the cord for the Skilsaw. Finding missing persons was club business. He was no longer a member.

  Because of the size of Notus and the reason for the exclusiveness, there was no out in the laws of the club. Back when they'd written the bylaws, leaving wasn't an option because their loyalty and long-standing friendship came first.

  Unlike Komoon, who swore to take out any member who broke their sworn loyalty to the club.

  "Wayne mentioned in our meeting after work that one of us should come over and ask you to ride out with us and search." Chuck put his foot up on the step stool and braced his forearm on his upraised knee. "Glen and Thad are out on the streets now, but we're all rallying in an hour."

  "Good luck with that one." He became aware of Gracie standing at the door holding a glass of water.

  He navigated the unorganized room and reached her, blocking her view. Chuck wasn't the man who put a smile on her face again
this morning or the man who held her hand as she hesitated at the doorway searching for her purse, which she'd left in her room. Maybe they had something in the past, but it was over.

  He'd make sure it was over.

  He drank all the water and wiped his mouth off on his arm, then kissed her. "Thanks, honey."

  "You're welcome." She peeked around his body and said, "Chuck? You want to stay for dinner?"

  "Can't, sweetheart." Chuck came and stood by Rich's side. "We've got a new case."

  She frowned. "How long has the person been missing?"

  "This morning. There's still time to find her. We've got some leads, so we're jumping on it." Chuck leaned in.

  Rich grabbed his shoulder and muttered, "Back off."

  Gracie's gaze snapped to him. Rich sniffed in agitation. The kissing. The touching. All that shit he'd seen going on between Gracie and Chuck was going to end while he was here.

  Chuck smacked him on the back. "Are you sure you don't want to ride with us?"

  "No gas." He put his hand on Gracie's lower back.

  Chuck's gaze went down, took in the situation, and nodded. Rich's chest tightened. He wanted to stay with Gracie. The limited time he had with her apparent every minute of the day.

  "We'll put a few dollars in your tank." Chuck squeezed past them and stopped in the hallway. "Your call. Gracie's got my number if you change your mind."

  With gas, he could leave town. It'd be enough to get him to Portland where he could get his head on straight without the influence of Gracie tempting him to stop counting the days, and figure out which direction he needed to go.

  Once away, he could put his thumb in the air and get someone to stop and top off his tank to get him a few more miles down the road. Maybe even spot him a drink for his hard luck.

  "You can go with them if you want." Gracie curled into his side and rubbed his stomach. "The room can wait."

  His craving to drink intensified.

  She stepped in front of him, tilted her head, and looked through her lashes at him. "Unless you want to stay and eat, get naked, eat, and get naked again..."

  As tempting as the offer and how much he wanted to close the bedroom door behind them for the rest of his life, his problems multiplied having Gracie expecting him to stick around. That wasn't going to happen. It couldn't happen.