Calamity Rayne: Gets A Life

by Lydia Michaels

  Dropping back to the sofa, he braced his arms on the edge of his knees. “I made the offer when everything was new. I was angry with my father and I wanted to hurt him. He tampered with something I considered…mine. The estate has always been one of his favorite homes. It’s his, but we inherited our portions years ago.”

  I couldn’t deny the disappointment I felt, finding such vindictiveness beneath him. “Can you change it? Is there a way you can offer her a different property?”

  “No.” He eased back on the sofa and I recognized the stress in his eyes. “I’ve tried. Once I cooled down and realized having her there wouldn’t benefit anyone, I made a counteroffer, but her lawyer turned it down.”

  That quickly my opinion of this woman shifted, returning to a point of distrust. I’d given her credit, witnessing how stoically she walked away in order to grant Hale’s wishes, but nothing was ever black and white.

  “Is she holding on to it as some sort of leverage?”

  His mouth flattened. “Whether she realizes it or not, that’s exactly what it is.” He picked up the stuffed sheep sitting beside him and stared at it, his voice somewhat distant. “Elara’s guardianship is solid. It’s my name on her birth certificate, but there are always loopholes. I’ll never be able to take her there.”

  “But Jasmine doesn’t want her.” That might change, however, if she saw Elara.

  “No, she doesn’t. She does want a life of luxury, however, which is why I’ve made things as easy as possible for her.”

  “What about your dad? Can he do something?”

  “I’d rather not involve him.”

  But he was involved. Biologically, this woman would always be Elara’s mother. Hale was not her true father and, should Jasmine contest, his shaky position might hinder his good intentions. I couldn’t see Remington voluntarily disclosing his true position to protect this child, but what if his silence cost his son?

  “I’m sure it will all work out.” That was total bullshit, but I didn’t like seeing Hale worried.

  I stood, scooping Elara off the floor and rocking her in my arms as she drifted off. Once she was asleep I carried her to the nursery and gently placed her in the crib. As I shut the door, I found Hale waiting in the hall.

  The intense look in his eyes gave me pause. Slowly, he approached and took my hand, drawing my fingers to his lips for a kiss. His other hand lifted and traced my jaw, that penetrating silver gaze never leaving my face.

  The air thickened. A heavy pull tugged between us as I stood before him, enduring his inspection, my body slowly heating under his reverent scrutiny. I’d expected him to have very little time for intimacy, but every time his daughter went to sleep he seemed ravenous, like he couldn’t get enough of me, each encounter more demanding than the last.

  I wasn’t sure where all this sudden intensity came from, if he was trying to prove something to himself, or me, or perhaps he just needed something outside of his role as parent for a moment.

  “You need sleep, Hale.”

  “I need you.” His lips brushed mine and I waited, unsure why this time felt different from all the other times he kissed me.

  He teased me with his mouth, taunted. His eyes watched me as he silently asserted his virility with each nip and lick. He crowded closer, boxing me in, demonstrating a level of unspoken ownership as he helped himself to my body. It was enthralling and a bit unnerving at the same time. I waited to see what he’d do next, what exactly he wanted from me.

  Something desperate passed between us, needy and hungry. His gaze followed his touch as it gradually traced my shoulder to the strap of my dress.

  Without speaking, he lowered the zipper of my dress. Fabric whispered down my frame as the dress fell to the floor, leaving me shivering before him in nothing but my bra and underwear.

  “Sometimes,” he whispered, his lips brushing over my shoulder and sending chills down my back. “You have a way of sweeping away all the bullshit, Rayne. Let me have you.”

  My nipples pebbled as the clasp of my bra came undone and my breasts hung heavily as he peeled the lace away. His fingers caught the silk covering my hips, stripping it to my ankles, and I stood before him completely bare and shivered.

  His eyes took me in, unapologetically looking his fill. There was such need hidden in the depths of his stare, such command of everything I was and felt in those passing seconds. Perhaps he needed to feel in control after confronting the things outside of his power, in order to cope with his fears.

  I could be that for him. I could give him the authority he seemed to desperately need at that moment.

  I waited, showing no objection to his boldness. My surrender seemed to register as his breathing escalated. Somehow, for as unobservant as I tended to be, I always recognized this shift in him, the subtle plea in his eyes to possess my body, own me in a way no one else ever managed.

  I glanced below his waist where he was noticeably hard and lifted my gaze, telling him without words, he was free to do as he pleased.

  In tune with my subtle permission, he took a swift step forward, backing me to the wall with his towering body as he pinned my hands against the flat surface.

  His mouth crashed over my throat. His breathing labored as he cupped my chest, mashing my delicate flesh in his palm.

  The jangle of his belt coming undone was a slight warning before my thighs were wedged apart and his fingers penetrated. I gasped, rocking into his hold as the heat of his body burned against mine.

  “I love you,” he hissed, pressing my back to the wall. His eyes were wild as he cupped my face and kissed me hard. “I fucking love you.”

  My feet lifted off the ground as he balanced my body with his strength, leaving only enough space for a gasp of surprise as he drove into me, hard. His possession was rough, needy, and almost bruising as he pulled me down to meet each blunted thrust. I caught his strong shoulders and held onto him.

  Our bodies slicked with sweat. My breasts slid against his chest as he pinned me there, his breath beating starkly against my shoulder.

  He stilled, deep inside of me and I waited, immobile, trapped in his hold.

  “Sorry,” he whispered, seeming to reclaim his senses. “I’m being too rough with you.”

  On the precipice of ecstasy, my hand gently cupped his head. “It’s okay. You aren’t hurting me.”

  He groaned as his hips slowly pumped. “I needed you. I couldn’t wait.” Somehow his words spoke of more than this moment.

  “I’m here,” I assured him.

  He was exhausted, overwhelmed, and I was his escape. That, for some reason, gave me more purpose than so many other things in my life and I drew comfort where he took his.

  “You have me, Hale. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Drawing his head back, he studied me, eyes unguarded, and there was so much vulnerability flashing in their depths. Withdrawing, he let my legs trail down his until my toes met the floor. Then he scooped me into his arms and carried me to his bed.

  He laid my body on the duvet with utter tenderness, never taking his gaze off me as he removed the remainder of his clothes. A hollow ache formed at my core where his body had been. I wanted him back inside of me, but Hale had other ideas.

  His mouth worked up my inner thigh, kissing and licking over the most sensitive places. My body stretched beneath him, opening without encouragement, begging for anything he might offer. His motions were restrained as he visibly battled to retain his control and I took pity on how much it cost him.

  “I won’t break,” I whispered, knowing he’d never intentionally hurt me. Hale was an intense man and I wanted all of him, not just the well-rounded edges. “You don’t have to be gentle.”

  Though I was the farthest thing from an expert on men, something told me he was holding back and needed to unleash. Others looked at him and saw a refined gentleman. I saw that too, but I also saw the animalistic side of him. The part that hungered greedily to let go of the propriety that bound him, and ached to be set f
ree.

  Catching his fingers, I gently smiled. “Take me the way you want, Hale. I won’t run scared.”

  His brow tightened as the inner debate played over his features and then the decision was made. He caught my hips and flipped me to my stomach, dragging my body to the edge of the bed until my toes grazed the floor.

  He wedged my thighs apart, his labored breath audible in the silence, as he stilled. “I need this,” his whispered.

  “I know. It’s okay. I’m yours.”

  He let out a slow exhalation that sent a chill across my shoulder. The blunt tip of his cock nudged my folds as his thighs pressed to mine. I could sense all he held inside, the rage of so much emotion dying to get out, but he seemed terrified to let himself go.

  “Please, Hale. I want it…hard.”

  My cry echoed off the walls as he filled me to the hilt. As my body lifted, he caught my shoulder, dragging his wide palm across my chest and to my jaw, angling my head back as he thrust again. I’d never been in such a vulnerable position, his fingers curling around my throat in a way that contrasted his absolute strength with my slight size. He held me there, not cruelly, but worshipfully, and I melted into his touch, giving him total control.

  His fingers dug into my hips as he roughly filled me and I gasped with each penetrating advance. Releasing my jaw, he gathered my hair in his fist and held me at a sharp angle. My body took every pounding thrust and he never slowed. Eventually, my strength waned, and his hold gentled, but he didn’t stop.

  Resting on my tired arms, I gasped with each plunging thrust. This was more than I anticipated, a darker side to him than I’d expected, but it was raw and honest and I wanted him to share it with me, because the idea of him showing this side to anyone else gutted me.

  The slap of our slicked bodies filled the room as I gasped under each hard advance. He cursed and grunted, his hands pulling at my limbs, cupping my curves, and his teeth scraping over my skin. I had no idea where he found the energy, but he seemed far from finished.

  His fingers gripped my ass, parting my cheeks as he slowed and stared at our bodies sliding together. “You’re so pretty, Rayne. Every part of you.”

  I should care that he was staring at my back door, but I couldn’t muster the concern. My folds were wet and swollen, making it easy for him to slide in and out of my sex as it pulsed with what seemed like endless need.

  He withdrew and my weak limbs sagged over the edge of the mattress. He carefully lifted me, placing me back in the center of his bed. The heat of his body blanketed mine. I was warm, but he was scorching. My body shivered as his heated flesh burned against mine.

  My eyes opened as his lips gently traced mine. He looked at me questioningly and I smiled, more sexually depleted than I’d ever been.

  “You okay?” he whispered, gently cupping my face.

  “Mm-hm.”

  I was more than okay. I was thoroughly loved, needed, and wanted in ways I never assumed I’d be. My palm curved along his strong jaw as I stared into his beautiful eyes. I stopped trying to rationalize my feelings or justify how fast my emotions had evolved, and recognized them for what they were.

  “I love you, Hale.”

  His lashes lowered as if those four words were everything he waited for in this life. Countering his earlier urgency, his touch slowed. His caress traveled up my leg as he parted my tender skin. “A little more, okay?”

  He gently slid back inside of me, filling me. I never imagined a moment like this, so unguarded and passionate. We stared into each other’s eyes, breathed each other’s air, as our bodies rocked as one.

  Hale was the first man to bring me any level of pleasure worth mentioning, but he was also the first man to make love to me. That’s what this was. There was no denying it. Wild, unrefined, tender, or slow, it was exactly what he was doing. And I was making love to him, too. It passed between us like secrets in the night as my chest ached in a pleasantly reassuring way that told me I was alive.

  These feelings, all of these sharp, intense feelings, cut into my soul. They showed me just how deeply this man connected with me. For the first time in my life I felt anchored and secure, and for once, I wasn’t scared.

  I didn’t know where the tears came from. Hale’s face nuzzled mine, catching each salty truth that fell between us in those quiet moments of completion. He whispered, pressing kisses to my eyes and temples. “So beautiful, Rayne.”

  His lips pressed with each uttered truth. “So sweet.” But my favorite, of all his words, was when he whispered, “You’re mine.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  I Avoid. It’s What I Do.

  “Aren’t you going to Hale’s?”

  Folding my feet beneath my legs on the couch I shrugged and reached for the remote. “Are you watching this?”

  Remington eyed me suspiciously. “That depends on what you want to watch.”

  “Impractical Jokers is on.”

  “Then yes, I’m watching this.”

  I rolled my eyes and relinquished the remote. My gaze followed the crawl on the bottom of the screen reporting the same news that had been reported for the last three hours.

  “Why aren’t you going out, Meyers?”

  I shrugged again. I was avoiding Hale’s mother, but that didn’t need stating. “I’m tired.”

  I felt Remington’s scrutiny without having to see it. “You don’t wear intimidation well. Naomi’s nothing to be afraid of.”

  That was likely true, but she was Hale’s mother and I didn’t have the energy to be examined. “I’m not intimidated by her.”

  He chuckled. “Bullshit.”

  Poking back, I asked, “Why did you two get divorced?”

  “She took issue with the company I kept.”

  I pursed my lips, certain I knew exactly the sort of company he was referring to. Men like Remington were shamelessly anti-monogamous. “Why even get married?”

  His head tilted. “Stability.”

  “Forget I asked. I don’t want to know how you justify things in that head of yours.”

  He slid me the remote and I changed the channel. I’d already seen this episode, but it was a good one. Murray and Joe were my favorite impractical jokers.

  “You’ll marry some day and understand,” he commented, frowning at the screen. “These men are idiots.”

  “I might marry, but I doubt I’ll ever view the laws of fidelity the way you do.” I laughed as one of the jokers got busted mid-challenge.

  “Would you forgive a man for straying?”

  “No.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  As a commercial came on I looked at Remington. “Why get married if the rules of monogamy don’t apply?”

  “There’s more than one vow. Just because I strayed doesn’t mean I didn’t love my wives.”

  He said wives as if he were a natural polygamist. “Let’s talk about something else.”

  He was silent for a long moment. “I expect Hale will eventually propose.”

  I choked, because he spoke as though he were wondering if it might rain. “Excuse me?”

  His brows briefly lifted. “He loves you. I know my son.”

  “Well, let’s hold off a bit on the registry.” Things were moving way too fast.

  He chuckled. “Any wise woman would say yes to a Davenport.”

  “And what gave you the impression I was wise? I don’t care about your wealth.”

  “And so you shouldn’t. What’s mine is mine. But Hale’s success is nothing to sneeze at.”

  So far we’d avoided any frank discussions of Hale’s unarguable capital. It hung there, like an affluent smog over every detail of his life, but it wasn’t what attracted me to him. “Did you get my notes on the Wes Sterling donations?”

  “Now there’s another kind of success. I spoke to him today. He asked how you were.”

  My eyes narrowed. “What are you doing, Remington?”

  Feigning innocence, he blanked his expression. “The man�
�s interested in you.”

  “I’m dating your son.”

  “Well, it isn’t as though you two exchanged vows,” he grumbled.

  “Don’t be a jerk.”

  “He’ll be in Florida this week.”

  “Who?”

  “Wes.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I said, knock it off.”

  “I’m joining him for dinner on Monday. I’ll expect you to make the arrangements.”

  Pursing my lips, I kept quiet. I’d make the arrangements, because that was my job. But I wasn’t attending that dinner.

  “You’ll attend the dinner.”

  I scoffed. “I’m not going to that dinner.”

  “I need you there. I want Wes to get onboard with a future venture of mine and I’ll need all the leverage I can get.”

  “Then buy him jewelry or something. I’m not flirting with some guy for your financial benefit.”

  “You flirting would be disastrous,” he mumbled. “I just need you present.”

  What was I, some sort of performing chimp? “The answer’s no.”

  “You’ll go.”

  He was wrong. I wasn’t going. Irritated, I stood.

  “You going to Hale’s?”

  Was this some way of driving me up the wall so I’d have no choice but to meet Hale’s mother? I didn’t like feeling maneuvered, which Remington excelled at.

  “No. I’m going for a walk.”

  He laughed. “Chicken.”

  “Buck-buck off.”

  As I left him on the couch, he yelled, “That’s not the sound a chicken makes.”

  I walked along the beach until Hale’s home stood before me. What was he doing at this very moment? If he’d told his mother about me, what had he said?

  The last time I saw him, things had been overwhelmingly intense between us. At the time it seemed pivotal, shoving us in the direction of something monumental, but after of day digesting all those intense emotions, I was now fearful.

  I was a breaker. I broke things and I didn’t want to break us. Thus me sneaking out of his house as soon as his mom notified him her flight landed. Well, not sneaking. It was more of a scurry.