by T. S. Joyce
“I was supposed to win the challenges, fuck Merit, and live semi-happily ever after,” he growled.
Hannah smacked her lips. “Sounds romantic.”
“Just stop, okay?” His hand slashed the air between them. “This entire mess is your fault.”
“My fault? I didn’t beat a man to a pulp, then drag my own self into a bedroom ranting about mating or bedding or whatever. I got dropped off in the woods and then shoved into your little fighting ring at the wrong time.”
Daria hissed as she unwrapped the last of the bandages around Hannah’s ribcage. “Who did this to you?”
“I’d rather not discuss it.”
“Keep your secrets, girl. Who repaired you?”
Riker’s eyes shifted completely gray as his pupils retracted to nothing. He stared at her breasts, which had bobbed free of their gauze bindings.
Heat flooded her cheeks and she winced as she reached for the blanket to cover herself.
“Shit,” Riker murmured, dropping his gaze to his growing erection. “I’m going to take a shower.”
“Probably best it be a cold one,” she muttered as he shut the bathroom door behind him.
“I heard that,” he called through the barrier.
She clacked her mouth closed and Daria laughed. “Can he really hear that well?” Hannah whispered.
Poking and prodding, the woman nodded. “Yes. Now tell me who did this.”
“A veterinarian. It was the best we could do. I’d almost bled out and the hospitals weren’t safe.”
“Three shots?”
Her nostrils flared as she sighed. Remembering how these injuries came to be destroyed her. “Yes. All straight through but one clipped a lung.”
“The stitches have to be redone, Hannah. I’m sorry.”
Closing her eyes against the pulsing pain and the fear of more, she nodded. Daria was older, with gray streaks through her dark hair and an easy smile. Her summer blue eyes were animated when she listened, and when she spoke she sounded genuine. Something about the woman made Hannah trust her.
Shuffling her position on Riker’s oversized bed, she stalled. “Riker’s hurt too.”
“He’ll hold, darlin’. He’s a bear.”
“Me too, in the mornings, but attitude doesn’t heal you.”
A slight frown took Daria’s eyebrows but she pursed her lips against whatever she was going to say.
“I want to see him,” a woman’s shrill voice rang out from the porch.
The door flew open and crashed against the wall and high heels echoed off the floor boards.
Even expecting it, Hannah jumped when Merit flew in like a witch without her broomstick.
“Where is he?”
Hannah sucked her lips in her mouth and pointed to the bathroom door. “Showering.”
“I want you gone,” the woman said.
“Lady, I wouldn’t be here if I had any choice about it.”
“You aren’t one of us and we had a plan.” Her voice was getting annoyingly whiney. “Riker and I have talked about this. He wants me. I’m the one everyone has agreed will fit him best. He’s mine.”
Ignoring the gnawing, possessive feeling that clawed her hands into the sheets, Hannah smiled cheerily. “Fantastic. You can have him.” She didn’t know what kind of shit storm she’d wiggled into, nor did she want to. Her wants were simple. Sleep and to have less bullets flying her way. Sexy Riker would complicate everything, so if Merit wanted him, she could mate or bed or fuck him, or whatever modern cults were calling it these days.
The bathroom door opened and Riker sauntered out, clad in jeans and toweling off his hair. Which he somehow managed to make look sexy, even right out of the shower. Damn him. She popped another grape into her mouth and smiled at his sneer.
“Merit, you’ll have to wait until tomorrow. Tonight is Hannah’s night.”
“Oh. My. Gravy. You just made this sound like one of those polygamist camps. Is that what this is? Plural families and multiple wives?” She’d always been fascinated by the dynamics, and now she’d get to experience what their lives were really like firsthand!
“No!” Riker and Merit both yelled and Hannah shrank back into the pillows.
“I don’t share,” Merit snarled.
“I don’t either, you lunatic. Which is why I told you, you can have him.”
Riker’s eyes went wide. “Wait, what? You can’t do that. I have to choose.”
“Why, because you’re the man?” she asked, eyebrows cocked. “It’s the two-thousands, hunky. It’s not all about the boys anymore.”
“Jesus,” Merit said with a humorless laugh. Her brunette curls bobbed gently with the shake of her head and the shiny strands caught in the light. “Does she know anything?”
“Ow!” Hannah yelped as Daria’s medical scissors skimmed one of the bullet holes.
“Yep, we’re going to numb you,” the woman said, seemingly unaffected by the soap opera going on behind her.
Riker’s eyes crashed onto hers. “Were you shot?”
“I thought you could hear everything in the whole wide world, Riker. I talked to Daria about this earl—,”
“Were you shot?” he roared.
She cleared her throat once, just so he wouldn’t think she had to answer every question he asked immediately. “Several times.”
“Merit, leave.”
“Riker—”
“As your alpha,” he gritted out between clenched teeth, “I’m telling you to leave.”
A furious noise came from the woman and she spun and left, stabbing the defenseless floor planks again with her stilettos. Why was she wearing those shoes anyway? Had she looked around? No one to see her but sister wives and pine trees. The runway was a million miles away from this place.
Daria jabbed her with a needle and the liquid inside felt cold as it hit her wounds.
Riker was looking at her breasts again.
Oh hang it, let him look. It had been forever since a man enjoyed the sight of her body, and if Riker was kind enough to ignore all of the maiming and scarring that Stone’s cronies had done to her chest, the man deserved a peaky peak.
His voice was hoarse when he spoke. “I think you need to start telling me who’s after you.”
“A psychopath who is currently sitting in jail with half of his hit men. The other half are looking for me. I testified against them. They’re in the big house because of me, and they want revenge.”
“Witness protection?”
“Yes. And no. I was in protection and Jeremy was my handler, but someone kept telling Stone’s men where I was hiding. They caught up to us, and...” Leaning her head back against the headboard, she sighed. What else could she say? The paranoia, the fear, the loss she couldn’t bring herself to talk to anyone about. It was all so heavy and she wanted one night to think of something else. Anything else.
Dammit, she wanted to smile again.
The bed sank in as he sat beside her. “You’ve got us both in a bad spot now, Hannah. You don’t even realize how serious you stepping into the ring tonight was.”
“Pushed. I was pushed by a dark haired girl, about yay high.” She lifted her hand to his bare chest, almost, but not quite brushing it. “She pulled my hair and shoved me forward.”
“What color were her eyes?” he asked.
“Dark. Caramel colored. She was pretty.”
“Jenny,” Daria said.
Riker raked his hands through his damp hair and a low rumble sounded from him. “What did she do to me?”
“Who’s Jenny?” Hannah asked.
Daria pulled another stitch. “His sister. She doesn’t like Merit much.”
Both eyebrows arched, Hannah said, “I can’t imagine why. And can you put a damned shirt on? Geez, we just met and it’s like a naked party in here.”
Twitching his head to the side, a rakish smile stretched his face. She wasn’t a cardiologist, but that smile probably just stopped her heart. His eyes seemed even brighter as h
e asked, “You don’t like what you see?”
“Don’t. Don’t be that boy who knows they’re sexy but still needs compliments.”
“Sexy, huh?”
“I’m not talking to you anymore until you put on a shirt.”
“But then wouldn’t you feel uncomfortable as the only one in the room with no shirt on?”
He had a point. “Fine. Do what you want. I’m unaffected.”
He was staring at her breasts again.
“Done for now,” Daria announced, cutting the excess off the final suture. “I’ll come back in the morning and bind you, but for now you can put these over the new stitches.” She dropped a package of square gauze and a roll of medical tape onto the crumpled navy comforter. “Riker can help you if you need it.”
“Riker can—wait, I don’t know if he should touch me.”
“Why not?” Riker sounded offended.
“Because it feels…dangerous.”
“Good instincts,” Daria said mysteriously, and left, medical bag in hand.
“Why am I here?” Hannah asked weakly. Nothing any of them had said since she’d arrived made any sense. “Why am I in your bedroom?”
Tugging her hands, he pulled her from the bed and stood her in front of the mirror over the dresser.
The package of gauze made a ripping sound, and he bit off a length of tape and settled it onto one of the holes in her back. “You’re supposed to sleep with me, Hannah.” His voice was deep, rich, gentle. A tremble traveled up her spine and his hands gripped her shoulders as if he was steadying her.
“And then you’ll sleep with Merit?”
Through the mirror, she could see his reflection as he concentrated on her back. He nodded. “It wasn’t the way I wanted it. I never wanted to choose.”
“Do you love her?”
“No. Never will. It would be a mating of convenience. Clan law says I must, so I must.”
“Don’t you fancy any of the other girls here?”
“No.”
Sadness washed over her. He would live a loveless life because of some silly law his people abided by. And for what? So he could be leader? It wasn’t fair.
Her voice trembled. “What if I’m not ready to sleep with you? I know you’ll choose Merit, so why go through with our part? You could just tell the others we did and pick her.”
Slowly, he turned her until her breasts brushed his stomach. “They’d know the difference, Hannah. They could tell.”
“How?”
“You’d smell the same. You wouldn’t smell like me.”
Cold scrubbed over her skin and she swallowed hard. Why would anyone try to smell her? This all sounded so archaic and wrong, and as desperate as she was to feel safe at last, was it worth getting on board where love and marriage were treated without reverence? “What if I say no?”
His eyes were soft and dipped to her lips. “I wouldn’t make you. They’d strip me of my title though if I can’t uphold the laws set in place to continue our kind. Alpha would go to one of the challengers who lost tonight.”
She released a trembling breath. “I’ve only been with one person before and it wasn’t…it wasn’t what I’d hoped it would be. I know you aren’t asking about other partners, but it seems important to tell you why this is so hard for me. Sex isn’t casual for me, Riker. I just met you, and even if I’m drawn to you, and think you are very handsome, I can’t sleep with someone I just met. It’s more personal than that to me.”
His fingers brushed her cheek and he rested his forehead against hers. The sigh he gave sounded of relief, not frustration. “Can I tell you a secret?” His hands cupped her neck, gently massaged the tense knots there.
She reached up and encircled his wrists in her hands, wanting to hold his touch longer. Her stomach clenched and sang with neediness she hadn’t ever known, but she’d made the right choice. “Tell me anything. I’m good with secrets.”
Leaning forward until his lips brushed her ear, he whispered, “I wish it was like that for me too.”
She eased back, searched the sadness that swam in his gray gaze. “It can be.”
A slight shake of his head denied that sex could have anything to do with feelings. “Not for me. Not with Merit.”
She sucked air into her lungs until they hurt, then blew it out. “Shit.” He had to stop saying things like that if she was going to toe the edge of the chaos that enveloped this place.
“I wish we’d met somewhere else,” he rumbled. Hooking a finger under her chin, he lifted until she was caught in his gaze. Slowly, he leaned forward until his lips touched hers.
She melted. Sagging under the gentle caress of his mouth, he caught her waist and followed her down to sit beside her on the plush mattress. His tongue brushed the seam of her lips and she opened for him, invited him to taste her.
No kiss she’d ever had could touch this one, and she sighed as her fingertips roamed the smooth skin of his chest and stomach. A low rumble sounded in his throat, making her drunk with lust. Wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, she hooked a leg over and straddled him so she could feel his skin against hers. His hand, warm and strong, slid up her ribcage until he cupped the fullness of her breast. Groaning, she dipped her head backward as his lips made a warm trail down her throat. He rocked his hips once and she arched into him.
“Hannah,” he murmured.
“Riker,” she breathed.
“Hannah,” he said against her neck. “Woman, you told me no.” He eased back, hunger burning in his gaze. “I only meant to kiss you goodnight.”
“Oh. But what about your laws?” What a hooker she was. One moment ago she was all, oh I can’t, and now she was peer pressuring him? Fucking Riker and his sexy pecs, and now her ovaries had betrayed her.
“I can’t do anything to change them, and I have to do what’s required of me, but I told you already, I won’t force you. If you need more time, I’ll wait. If you still don’t want me, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. I can stall for you. I’ll visit Merit tonight.”
“No!” Her eyes flew wide and she snapped her hand over her traitorous mouth. “I mean,” she said at a less psychotic volume, “please don’t go to her tonight. You have until the summer solstice to pick, right?”
With a slow nod, a frown of confusion took his face.
“Sleep with me.”
“But you said—”
“Just sleep, man. I’m not taking Merit’s sloppy seconds. I’m not saying this will happen, but I feel...” God, what did she feel? Attraction, yes. Lust, double yes. But something more burned at her heart. Possibility where her life had been dark and empty. And for the first time in a year, she felt safe. It only happened right here, in Riker’s arms. Did that make her daft? Hell yes, but she’d never claimed sanity. “It definitely won’t happen if you go to Merit’s bed first.”
“Sleep beside you,” he said, a statement, not a question.
“You say that like you’ve never heard of the concept. Sleeping beside each other is a form of intimacy too. And right now it’s all I can give you.”
Chapter Five
When Hannah was younger, she’d liked to play dress-up. She and Marian, her sister, had hoarded piles of clothes Mom had saved over the years. Looking back, her long silk teddy might not have been the most appropriate garment to add to the dress up bin, but she and Marian used to howl and fight over who got to wear it. Rubber bands held up the shoulder straps, and the black lace trim itched like a pile of rabid fire ants, but whoever wore that dress was princess for the day.
Hannah lifted the holey XXL t-shirt in front of herself and cringed. It was the color of root beer and made her skin look jaundiced. She’d give her elbows to have Mom’s old teddy now. The past year had been hell on her wardrobe. More than two pair of shoes didn’t fit in a go-bag and daytime clothes were down to necessity only. And right now, this oversized shirt was as close to a nighty as she was getting. Holding it up to herself, she sighed and frowned at her reflection in
the bathroom mirror. It hadn’t bothered her to wear it in front of Jimmy and Jeremy, but they were thirty years her senior and completely uninterested in her sex appeal. Riker was a different animal altogether. Some pathetic part of her wanted him to find her attractive.
With a growl, she pulled the threadbare fabric over her head. So stretched was the neck from use, it barely touched her cheeks.
Her hormones were appalling in their shrieking need. In her defense though, she’d been holed up in safe houses with two old men and no eye candy in sight. The closest she’d gotten to a hot, red-blooded man her age had been a good looking cashier at a grocery store she visited a few months back. She would’ve begged his number if it weren’t for the economy pack of tampons she was paying cash for.
She narrowed her eyes at her reflection. Pale skin, unruly honey colored hair, clear green eyes. She’d been pretty before all of this. Worried about clothing and manicures and Brazilian waxes. Now she felt like a walking disaster.
A soft knock echoed across the door. “Hannah? You all right?” Riker asked from the other side.
Right. He probably needed to get ready for bed and she was hogging the bathroom to feed her low self-esteem. Twisting the knob, she slid the door open and tried to smile. “I’m doing awesome.”
His eyes raked down the length of her sexy muumuu and a smile tugged at the corner of his lip.
“I swear if you laugh, I’m going to choke you.”
Clad in boxers and nothing else, looking like the most delicious thing her pupils had ever focused on, he leaned against the door frame and smirked. “You threatening me?”
Biting back a smile at his playfulness, she wrapped her hands around air and strangled. With a little shake, she said, “That could be your neck, right here in my iron grip.”
“Mmm.” He didn’t sound as terrified as he ought.
When he squeezed her butt and sidled around her, she let out an ungracious, “Umf.” He was a handsy stranger, wasn’t he?
As he pressed toothpaste onto his toothbrush, then turned to put some on the one she’d left sitting on the sink, she shuffled closer. He was nice for a cult leader. Perhaps that was the appeal to signing up for this lifestyle.