by Elle Thorne
She spun around. She wouldn’t have him witness her breakdown. She bent her knee, almost ready to sprint to her room.
Steel bands locked around her. His fingers encircled her biceps, turning her around, pinning her to the wall behind her. In front of her, he was a solid wall of man, sexy, undeniably all man.
She kept her gaze locked on his chest. She didn’t want to look into his eyes. She couldn’t do it, not right now.
A finger beneath her chin, gentle but firm pressure on her jaw, raised her head, until her only options were to look into his eyes or close hers.
He stepped closer, his thighs pressing against hers, his torso melding with hers.
“Deny it.”
That was all he said, his breath so close to her face that she had to breathe it in, as if she were breathing a part of his soul in. She held that breath, knowing that she held a part of him deep within her, unwilling to let it go, as unwilling as she’d been to let him go.
“Teague.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, highlighting fully the all-encompassing love that she still held for him.
“Deny it.” He lowered his head until she could feel the heat of his lips against hers, though she wasn’t even sure if his lips had touched hers yet. “Do it.”
She couldn’t. She knew what he was asking. He was asking her to deny loving him, wanting him, needing him. She couldn’t deny it. She wouldn’t lie about it.
She choked back a sob. She wasn’t going to cry. No, he couldn’t drive her to tears. She hadn’t cried since her father died. She didn’t do tears. No. Not a chance.
He lowered his head, and his mouth claimed hers in an eternal struggle of love and fear. His lips locked on her lips, parting them, trespassing on her flesh the same way he had trespassed on her heart in such a way that she still couldn’t release the hold of his heart on hers.
His tongue drove into her mouth, as if he was searching for more of her—for all of her. Their tongues twined, an all-encompassing blend of desire, love, and absence.
She raised her hands, traveling them up his abdomen, over his broad chest.
He groaned into her mouth, echoing the very emotions that were rampaging through her.
She tangled her hands in his hair, pulling him lower.
The emotions that she’d never lost rammed into her head and heart with the force of a tidal wave.
She was going to get into it all over again. She couldn’t bear the notion of telling him why she’d left. She didn’t want to hurt him.
She shoved at his chest, but he was immobile. She shoved again and he moved back a half step.
Kelsey slipped past him, running out of the hallway, tears blinding her, and ran right into the front door with a resounding smack.
Jerking on the door handle, she pulled until she realized it was locked. Fumbling with the deadbolt, she broke a nail—painfully—then yanked the unlocked front door open and stumbled out of the building.
She missed the five-step staircase and tumbled headfirst down to the driveway, landing half on concrete, and half on the evergreen tree on the corner.
“Damn it,” she hissed, and sucked on her torn fingernail to ease the sting while using her other hand to hold her skinned elbow.
I can’t even do this right. I fuck up trying to get out of the house and end up a mess.
Arms reached down, picked her up, carried her as a groom carries a bride over the threshold.
“Stop. I’m going to take you to your room and get you a couple of cold washcloths.”
She tucked her head into Teague’s chest. She was tired of fighting with herself.
Teague carried her into her bedroom and set her down. She winced when she put her left foot on the floor.
“Let me take a look at that,” Teague said after she’d sat on the edge of the king-sized bed.
He removed her sock gingerly and looked at her ankle. “It’s a little bruised.” He swung her legs onto the bed and placed pillows behind her back. “I’ll be back with ice and a couple of wet cloths for the elbow.”
Watching his departing back, the way he carried himself, the width of his shoulders, brought the past crashing back down on Kelsey.
It reminded her of that day she’d left for good.
He’d gotten dressed and was going to work, and had given her a kiss while she sat up in bed studying for a final.
He had no idea of the torment she was going through that day, no notion of the painful decision she’d made.
He’d turned, walked away with a smile on his face, and that was the last time she’d seen him.
Chapter Sixteen
Teague couldn’t stay. He couldn’t stand being this close to her and not touching her, not lying next to her. As soon as she went to sleep, he ran a fingertip over her cheek, tracing the delicate outline of her lips, her jaw line, and the curve of her brow. He touched his lips to hers, breathing in the air she exhaled as if he were drinking her up. Then he left her bedroom, pulling the door behind him until it was only open a crack.
After he’d retrieved the blueprints and took a survey of the B & B, he noted that there were tunnels that led out of several rooms in the old building. One led out of the basement, hidden behind a cupboard shelving unit. The latch would be released when the second shelf from the top was pushed, the resistance unhinging the door and letting it swing wide, leading to a dark tunnel.
Another entrance started in the utility room. Behind the closet door was a panel that slid across, revealing another tunnel, this one leading downward, and again, into darkness.
The third one was beneath the staircase that led to the second floor.
Unfortunately, the blueprints didn’t show where the tunnels let out.
Teague was tempted to follow them, to yield to his curiosity. If he did, he could burn a half day that he should spend working. That was a half day that he’d have to extend his stay. He also didn’t feel comfortable exploring someone else’s property without their permission.
After one more glance into Kelsey’s room to ascertain that she was still asleep, he went to his own room at the other end of the B & B and lay in his bed, sleepless.
His bear was restless, eager to roam the forest and release its frustration, but Teague wouldn’t succumb to its restlessness. He wanted to be here if Kelsey needed him.
Chapter Seventeen
Kelsey rubbed her eyes and rolled over. Teague had left sometime during the night. He’d taken care of her, set her up with whatever she needed, then sat in the chair by the bed, turning it so it faced the window that looked out on the forest.
She’d dreamed that he’d kissed her lightly, but she knew that was only a dream. There was no way Teague would kiss her, not after what they’d been through the last two years. He hadn’t said another word, just stared out the window, looking at the forest as if he was expecting something or someone to come out of the dense, tree-covered area.
Kelsey finally fell asleep and when she woke up a few hours later, he wasn’t in her room. Something that sounded like a roar in the distance had awakened her, but she wasn’t sure if she’d heard it or dreamt it.
She wanted to talk to him, wanted to hear his voice, but she knew that the only thing he’d want to talk about was what had happened between them. That was the only thing she wasn’t willing to talk about. She guessed it was a good thing he wasn’t in the room, then.
She fell back asleep and woke up to the sound of songbirds and the bright morning sunlight coming through the window. She wished the morning’s cheeriness could rub off on her.
Swiveling out of the bed, she put some weight on her foot. That was bearable. She limped to the bathroom, washed her face, and dressed.
There was no sign of Teague. His truck was gone. He was gone.
Chapter Eighteen
A heartbreaking, lonely, and confusing week later, Kelsey took a sip of her coffee. It should have been perfect. The whole day should have been perfect. She looked out the window at the brightness of the sunshine
, the majesty of the mountains in the background.
She sighed.
She couldn’t get her mind off of Teague, off the fact that he’d stayed away, avoiding her for so many days.
After that kiss, Teague had been scarce. Working. Staying out of her way. Two days went by that way: no Teague. Only a truck and the sounds of hammering. She could have sought him out; it wasn’t like he wasn’t in the same building as she was. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t be the one who did that, because of her stupid, messed-up pride.
Instead, she moped, wondering if he’d decided that caring for her had been a mistake. It bothered Kelsey that he stayed gone.
By the third day, she’d made up her mind that she couldn’t spend any more time pining for him. She’d done that for two years, and look where it had gotten her.
She had a job now, a purpose. She had to pick up the pieces.
Dialing on her cell phone, she made arrangements to visit several shops in the city. It was time to decorate the B & B. She had a deadline, with the wedding less than month away. She’d make herself busy hunting down the perfect designer, accessories, and kitchen supplies for the B & B’s kitchen. They’d have to have a cook.
First, though, the business needed to flourish. Until then, Kelsey would manage the cooking.
She spent the rest of the week in the city, shopping for the B & B, procuring the furniture and accessories she’d need to make it ready for guests and a wedding. She ate dinner out every day, and came home late every evening.
Each of those evenings, when she pulled in, Teague’s truck was gone. She wondered if he’d met someone and was spending his nights away. She hadn’t heard him come in since they’d shared that kiss. But every morning he was there, his truck parked outside, the sounds of industriousness coming from the other side of the B & B.
Friday evening, she was driving home. The roads were a series of curves that would have been treacherous in icy and snowy conditions, but were perfectly fun to traverse on the clear day.
Her phone rang. Ignore it? She was tempted. Instead, she looked at the screen. Mae. She answered it.
Mae jumped right to the point. “Let’s meet tomorrow for lunch and a progress report. Sound good?”
Kelsey tried to swallow the lump in her throat. Progress report? That would probably include Teague. There was no way to avoid it, though, and she had to be professional.
Just fake it until his work is done.
Then she could go back to living—correction, then she could go back to faking that she was living, because without Teague in her life, all she did was sustain herself, day to day.
“Sure. I’ll bring some notes.” Too bad this couldn’t have been handled by phone.
“Great,” Mae said. “I’ll have Teague update us on his progress too. I know Chelsea’s getting antsy.”
“She doesn’t need to be. It’ll all be ready, I’m sure of it.”
“You know how new brides can be.” Mae’s smile could be heard through the phone.
* * *
Kelsey pulled into the driveway and winced when she saw Teague’s truck there. She glanced at her watch. 9 o’clock. He was usually gone by this time in the evening. Was he working late? Trying to wrap things up so he could get out of town more quickly?
She turned off the car, got out and opened the front door. Silence greeted her. Usually Teague’s presence was announced by hammering or sawing or drilling. She stood still, listening.
Nothing.
Could he have been picked up? Was he out with Grant? Maybe that was what had happened. She didn’t want to entertain the idea that he’d gone out with a woman. A grimace crossed her face. No, she didn’t want to entertain that idea at all.
She noticed a light on upstairs. She hadn’t been up there yet, since he’d started; she’d been giving him space, avoiding him, really. But now she was curious about what he’d done.
She took a step toward the staircase. Then she shook her head. Noooo. Best not to do that. She swerved toward the kitchen, dropping her purse on the chair in the hallway.
Another glance at the staircase.
Oh, what the hell.
She took the stairs slowly, tiptoeing, as if she would be caught. As if what she was doing was so very wrong.
Come on, I work here. What’s wrong with my going up there?
She reached the top of the staircase. Several lights were on. There: she could use that as an excuse for coming up here.
As if I need an excuse to visit the rooms in the inn that I’m supposed to be in charge of?
She scoffed at her own ridiculousness.
She surveyed the waiting room at the top of the stairs. He’d done a wonderful job. The room was impeccable; it was freshly painted, just waiting for the furniture to be returned to it.
She went to another room. It was in the same condition—astonishing. Amazing how talented he was. He’d always been good with his hands, but she’d never had any idea he was this good.
Guess I never got that involved in his work before.
Of course not; she was too busy working on her degree and enjoying life with her boyfriend. Why would she have gone to his construction jobs?
She reached the last door on the right. It was too late to turn around by the time she’d stepped into the doorway. She realized at that moment that this wasn’t one of the rooms he was redoing. This was the room he was staying in. Teague was sprawled out in the bed.
Kelsey gasped.
He was nude, a sheet covering one thigh and what looked like a massive erection. Every other part of his beautiful body was on display, a feast of manliness, muscles, and tanned skin that she couldn’t tear herself away from.
Kelsey should have backed away. She knew she should have, but something kept her pinned to that spot on the floor, staring at the length of his body, at the muscles that flexed as he stretched slightly, and then shifted.
A chest she remembered well, dusted with fine hairs that used to tickle her face when she’d lie on him. Thick arms that used to hold her when she’d sit astride him and slide up and down his shaft.
Her eyes traveled back down to the length of hardness that made a very defined tent out of the sheet. She bit the tip of her finger, wishing that...
Dangerous thought.
She shook her head at herself.
Teague shifted again, groaned in his sleep, and moved toward his side. The sheet slithered lower, and lower, revealing his thickness, the mushroom head she’d caressed with her tongue, lips, fingertips, the thick shaft she’d taken in deep and milked.
A heat rose in her body, starting at her core, traveling to the outer edges of both her soul and her torso. She took a step back at the same time, her fingers itching to wrap themselves around his length.
Damn it.
She slid one hand into the waistband of her skirt, into her panties, past the tiny fluff she’d left behind when she’d ‘scaped her mound.
With the ease of one who is comfortable with self-satisfying, her fingertips found her clit, pressing down, creating an urgent need.
Fuck.
She couldn’t do this here. No. Not now. With one last wistful glance at Teague, as though committing him to memory, she spun around and took the stairs as quickly as she could while still remaining silent.
She had to get to privacy. The need for him, the desire to feel the way she used to feel when they were together, was too strong.
Chapter Nineteen
Teague woke up. No, that wasn’t what happened, exactly. His bear woke him with a growl that escalated into a roar which made Teague want to cover his ears. But covering his ears wouldn’t do a damned thing to silence his bear, and he knew it. The sound was coming from deep within.
He sniffed, and the bear sniffed with him, though the bear already knew.
Kelsey. Her scent. Her sex scent. The bear rumbled, half in satisfaction, half in anticipation.
Why would he smell her sex up here?
Teague looked around him.
He’d fallen asleep, the lights still on. He didn’t hear any noises, but he felt her pulse, though it was faint, somewhere in the building.
He jumped up, threw a pair of shorts on and made his way down the stairs, quickly but silently, the whole time inhaling her scent, teasing his bear—hell, teasing himself too.
Damn. That scent. That taste.
He’d missed it.
He paused at the entrance to her part of the B & B. His nostrils flared. His dick twitched in his shorts, harder than it had been when he woke up.
It was as if every part of him was connected to her sex. His bear, his cock, his body, his heart, his soul. Dammit, for fuck’s sake, why couldn’t he shake this woman from any part of him?
His bear grumbled an answer that didn’t provide any satisfaction. He knew she was his mate. But what he wanted meant nothing if she didn’t want it.
A groan grew in his chest. He pushed it back and stepped closer to her doorway, closer to her scent.
He shouldn’t impose on her. He shouldn’t cross into her area or past her boundaries, but he was helpless against the drive of his nature and his bear. He took a step forward with stealth, feeling uncomfortable but at the same time, feeling very right about what he was doing.
He glanced into her room, saw the large mirror, and in the reflection, he saw Kelsey, leaning against a wall, her mouth open in a pant, her face the picture of ecstasy, her hand in her skirt, moving at a rapid pace.
His pulse picked up speed, matching hers. His hand drifted down to his cock, hard and pressed against his denim shorts. He snapped the button open and slid the zipper down with a tiny hiss, not worried she’d hear him over the sound of her straining breaths and low moans.
Taking his length out, he ran his hand over the head, imagining her doing that, visualizing her hand on him, her mouth on him.
With a quick jerk, Kelsey arched her back, bent her legs, and let out a long, sensual moan with her climax. She collapsed against the wall, then slid down it, her body spent.