by Skye Warren
“No!” Lucy pulled back so she could look him in the eye. “Sean, no, never. If I thought for a second that you did it, would I even be here right now? Would I have let you move in with me?”
“I don’t know,” he said, with what might have been a smirk on his lips.
She whacked him on the shoulder. “Come on, dude, you know I have faith in you.”
“Oh, yeah?” He wove his arms around her body, hugging her forcefully enough that breath fled her lungs. “It’s too bad you’re the only one.”
“I’m not,” Lucy told him. “Caroline believes you, too. It’s just my mom who’s closed-minded about all this stuff. She can’t set aside the accusation and see the acquittal.”
When he let go of her, air surged into her lungs so hard it hurt. He surprised her by saying, “Don’t worry what your mother thinks.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Lucy asked. “My mom thinks you’re a murderer. Doesn’t that bother you?”
“Nope.” Sitting on the arm of the couch, he drew her playfully into his lap.
As he bounced her on his knee, she couldn’t help laughing. “Stop it, Sean! Can’t you be serious for a second?”
“I’ve been serious for many, many seconds—minutes, even. Hours at a time!” He nuzzled her neck. “Serious is highly overrated.”
She had to respect his wishes. After all, he’d been forced to spend time in jail, awaiting a trial for things he didn’t do. The whole country was still convinced he’d killed that woman, raped her too. Who was Lucy to tell him how he should feel?
“I love your neck,” he said as he planted baby kisses all the way to her jawline. “Right here. This spot.”
The way his lips warmed her flesh sparked a tingle in her core. His hand followed that tingle, resting on her belly gently and then moving in slow circles, lower, parting her thighs enough to rub between them. She swelled for him as his mouth found hers. God, was his tongue ever strong. Every time he kissed her, she felt his tongue like a ghost against her clit. It was just her imagination, she knew, but the sensation was so realistic that her jeans suddenly felt two sizes too small.
“Come on, babe.” She slid out of his lap, tugging him toward the bedroom. “I’ll strip for you.”
“Oh, you think so?” He darted up from the couch and, coming in behind her, wrapped his prison-sculpted arms around her neck.
“Sean…” It was a variation on a hug. Sometimes he didn’t realize his own strength, didn’t seem to sense that his grip was too tight. “Let go. I can’t breathe.”
“I know you can’t.” His voice was a seductive growl, like he wanted her to acknowledge that his love exerted total power over her. “Don’t you like it?”
“No.” It hurt. She tried to swallow, but she couldn’t. “Stop.”
All at once, he let go. Just like that. Easy.
When Lucy touched the sensitive place where his arms had been, Sean laughed. “Let’s go out for a bit.”
Dazed, she asked, “Out where? Should I change?”
“Nah,” he said and then swiftly changed his tune. “Actually, yeah. Put on that dress I like.”
He didn’t have to explain. She knew exactly which one he meant, and closed the bedroom door as she slipped out of her jeans. Christ, were her panties ever slick! He’d really turned her on just then. Was it the kissing or the roughhousing? Her mom would read too much into the way he’d grabbed her just then, taking her neck too tightly in his arms. The truth was that every guy she’d been with had enjoyed the rough stuff. Her mind didn’t want to want it, but her body knew better.
Lucy slipped her gauzy summer dress over her head and tied the halter around the back of her neck. She couldn’t feel his touch anymore, and she missed it. Where was he taking her? Hopefully somewhere they could sneak away for a naughty moment alone.
She never wore a bra with this dress, but the top part was fitted enough to keep her small breasts in check. If she didn’t put on panties, would anyone be able to make out the curly orange wisps of her pubic hair? She tried out every angle in front of the mirror and finally decided she didn’t care whether people could see through the fabric. She’d be on Sean’s arm. She’d dress for him alone.
“No heels,” he said through the door. “Flats.”
Lucy kicked off the shoes she’d just slid her feet into, and put on ballet flats instead. Very cute.
“Okay, I’m ready.” She threw open the door and paraded down the hall like it was her own personal runway. “Tell me what you think.”
The gleam in his eyes said it all, but he didn’t stop there. Grabbing her wrist, he pulled her into his arms, crushing her small body to his chest. He kissed again, more forcefully than before, running one hand down her ass and squeezing.
“You’re wearing a thong,” he growled, his breath hot on her ear.
“No.” She pulled up on her cotton skirt. “I’m not.”
She held his sizzling gaze as he swooped his hand around the base of her bum. His fingers teased her flesh as she parted her legs, just slightly, for him. The moment he dabbed into her wetness, his eyes lit up. She could taste his hunger.
“Bad girl,” he said in a way Lucy couldn’t quite read. Was he aroused or angry? That expression could have gone either way.
He answered her silent question with a smack.
Lucy’s spine straightened. Her heart raced. She heard the spanking land before she actually felt it, and for a moment she thought perhaps she’d get off easy—maybe she wouldn’t feel the burn at all.
No such luck. After a lost moment, a palm-shaped blaze flashed across her skin. Warmth, not pain. The next one brought pain. It came so out of the blue that she threw herself against his strong chest, like he could save her from himself.
But he couldn’t. He didn’t. He smacked her again, sending a shock of pain beyond her flesh. His spanking hurt so hard she felt it in her blood.
“Put on some panties.” He found her hips with both hands and pushed her toward the bedroom. “Cotton ones. The tiny cotton panties with the lace around the edges.”
Was she blushing? Spankings always did that to her.
Nodding, she stepped backward into the bedroom. She couldn’t take her eyes off his. God, that stare—when he looked at her that way, she felt owned. She felt special. She was the only one who truly believed in him, and he knew that. He knew how much she loved him, because he loved her every bit as much. They were made for each other.
She was just stepping into her panties when he opened the front door. “Get a move on, Lucy. Only a few more hours of daylight.”
Tripping over her feet, she grabbed her purse and a light pashmina. “Coming! Don’t leave home without me.”
“Like I could live without you.” He snuck his arm around her neck as she locked the door, creating a playful triangle, his elbow just below her chin. “I couldn’t, you know.”
“I know.” She ducked before he could tighten his grip, slipping away from him like a ghost, giggling as she raced toward the elevator. “Ha! I escaped.”
“Get back here, you.” He ran after her, grasping her waist and lifting her off her feet before she could press the button. “You can never escape. I’m always gonna be here.”
“Good.” A giddy tingle sparkled through her body as he turned her in his arms. “I want you forever.”
His lips found hers as the elevator door squealed open. As he carried her across the threshold, she didn’t stop kissing him even long enough to check if anyone was staring at them. There mustn’t have been, because Sean wouldn’t dip his strong hands under her skirt in front of witnesses…would he?
“God, I’m so turned on.” He broke their kiss to set her down as the empty elevator opened. “You don’t know what you do to me.”
“I think I do,” she countered. “Wanna fuck in the car? Wouldn’t that be dirty?”
“We’re not taking the car.” He swept her from the lobby. Instead of heading out front, they went the back way. “We’re going for a long walk.”
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nbsp; “Oh.” She did her best to conceal her disappointment.
Why did he ask her to put on a dress if they were just going for a walk? And he knew she’d passed up dinner at her mother’s house—couldn’t he anticipate that she might be hungry? Starving?
But one look at that chiseled jaw, that sparkling white smile, and she couldn’t stay mad. “Whatever you want, babe.”
He escorted her toward the ravine path where neighbors jogged and walked their dogs. Hand in hand, they walked until the dense forest opened into a clearing. She hadn’t worn her watch, so it was hard to say how long they’d been at it. His company was magic. She could listen to him for hours and never get bored.
“Where are we?” Lucy asked when the land took on a familiar tone, like a dreamscape or a childhood memory. “I think I’ve been here before, but…I don’t know.”
“There it is!” Pointing to a parking lot in the distance, Sean said, “Best chip truck in the country, I swear. Just wait till you taste their haddock. You’ll be hooked.”
Fish? From a truck? Lucy’s instinct was to run far, far away, but it was actually sort of sweet that Sean had brought her on this wild-goose chase for fish and chips. And, once they’d lined up and ordered and found a cozy picnic table where they could eat, she found that he was right. “Wow, these really are the best chips I’ve ever tasted.”
“Try the fish,” he said, breaking through the deep-fried batter with his plastic fork. “It’s better than sex.”
Lucy raised an eyebrow. “Like that could even be possible.”
Her first bite was so hot she had to suck in air to cool her palate. After a sip of water and another go, the sweet filet filled her mouth with such a succulent flavor that she didn’t even care that her calf muscles were twitching and blisters threatened her big toes.
“You’re right,” she said. “This fish is better than sex.”
They smiled at each other as they chewed, because sometimes just being together was the greatest joy in the entire world. But when Lucy teased a French fry in ketchup and Sean didn’t react, she followed his blank stare and asked, “What?”
“Those guys.” He offered a subtle nod. “They’re talking about me.”
“How can you tell?”
“I just can.”
Lucy had been in this situation enough to know how to conduct herself. As three large men approached their picnic table, she dug into the fish, trying to ignore the shiver down her spine.
“Hey! You!” The men were older, maybe in their fifties, but Lucy felt intimidated by their sheer size. “Are you Sean Scott?”
Sean looked around. “Who, me?”
“Yeah you. Who d’you think I’m talking to?”
“I… I don’t know,” Sean stammered. He was getting good at pretending he wasn’t himself.
The first time this happened, Lucy was dumb enough to stand up for Sean. It had been girls that time—probably in their teens—but Lucy had picked a fight, thinking she’d win. She’d shouted about how Sean had been acquitted, which meant he wasn’t guilty, which meant everybody just had to leave the poor guy alone.
She wouldn’t try that again.
“Sean Scott—the guy who killed that girl down by the lake?” The men seemed much less certain than they had.
“Yeah, I know who you’re talking about, but I’m not him.”
The biggest man traced his hand down a salt-and-pepper beard and said, “You look just like the guy.”
“I don’t think that’s a compliment,” Sean said.
Lucy smiled, but she was suddenly having trouble with the charade.
“So you’re not him?” asked the man in a torn T-shirt and sweat pants.
Sean shook his head. “I’m not him.”
“Oh.” All three men bowed their heads slightly, like that way the only way they knew to offer an apology, and then tramped toward the chip truck.
Digging her fork into the fish, Lucy focused on the crisp crackle of batter and the little shoot of steam that rose from the filet. She didn’t look Sean in the eye. She couldn’t.
“Look at them, skulking away with their tails between their legs.” Sean chuckled as he dipped his chips in ketchup.
“This is the park, isn’t it?” Swallowing past the lump in her throat, Lucy asked, “This is the place where the body was found.”
“Yup,” Sean replied, like it was no big deal. “In the lake down that path over there. Not out in the open or anything. It’s a remote spot.”
Lucy’s throat burned. She couldn’t eat any more. “I don’t like that you know so much about it.”
“Why?” His tone remained jovial, but she still couldn’t bring herself to look at his face. “I sat in that courtroom while the Crown dug into every little detail, went through every morsel of evidence for the jury. Trust me—I paid close attention.”
All at once, the tension fell out of Lucy’s shoulders. “Jesus, I’m sorry, Sean. I didn’t even think.”
“It’s okay, babe.” When he reached for her hand, she gazed into his calm, caring eyes and felt like an idiot for doubting him.
“No, it’s not okay. You said yourself I’m the only person in the world you can count on. Who does it help when I question you?”
“It’s fine.” His grip tightened around her hand. “Honestly.”
Her mouth watered, but the tender fish didn’t hit the spot, no matter how much she ate. Neither did the fries.
“I can take you there, if you want to see it.”
Lucy’s stomach tightened while her thighs warmed. “Take me…?”
“Where they found the body,” Sean said.
“You know where they found it? How?” She didn’t want to know.
Scooping up their garbage, Sean rose from the picnic table. “Like I said—they went over all this stuff, in detail, during my trial. Did you follow it on the news or anything?”
“No,” Lucy said, but that was a lie.
“Oh, they grilled me on the stand, especially about how my semen got into her body.” He dumped their trash in a bin and then took Lucy by the hand, leading her toward the path. “Those lawyers, I tell you, they didn’t want to believe the sex was consensual. Tamryn and I came here on a date—that’s why so many witnesses reported seeing us.”
“Oh. Okay.” Lucy wished he would stop speaking, but she couldn’t ask him to stifle himself. Who else could he talk to, if not her?
“She had a thing for sex in public, sex in the woods. I’d never done anything so daring, but she loved it and we hadn’t been dating very long so I didn’t want to seem like a prude.”
Lucy laughed. “You? A prude?”
“Not anymore.” As they dipped into a private nook of trees, Sean’s hand found its way to Lucy’s thigh, then slipped up her skirt, cupping her bum. “God, I love this ass.”
“How much?” she asked as he pressed her up against a tree.
His mouth found hers as he squeezed her bum with both hands. It wasn’t enough just to touch her over her cotton panties. He dug inside, touching her skin, treating it roughly, just the way she liked. Her pussy pulsed with every squeeze. She almost wished he’d take her over his knee, but this was hardly the place for a spanking. Too public. People might hear when she cried out in pain.
“I fucked Tamryn up against this tree.”
He pressed his hardness against her belly, but she didn’t react. When he kissed her this time, she didn’t kiss him back.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing.” Lucy plastered on a smile. “It’s fine.”
“Obviously not.” His hands found hers. “You don’t like me talking about it?”
“I’m sorry.” She fell into his arms, hugging him sweetly. “I’m an idiot. How stupid is it to be jealous?”
Sean crushed her to his chest. “Jealous of a dead girl?”
Lucy didn’t answer. It was getting hard to breathe.
“Don’t be.” He kissed her hair, then let go.
The summ
er breeze rushed into her lungs. She couldn’t get enough of that sensation: the inability to function, the waiting to see when he’d give her life, and then the sudden return from the borders of death.
“Come over here.” He took her hand and led her off the beaten track, down an incline that was slippery with pine needles, and then to a rocky terrain by the water.
Gravel-sized rock shards ran like spikes through the soles of Lucy’s ballet slippers. Her feet were killing her, but she didn’t complain. Her pain was nothing important.
“It was early afternoon, still nice and bright when she brought out her watercolor pad and paint pots. She liked this spot, for the sparkle of the sun off the lake, and the landscape across the way. She used lake water to paint. I thought that was really cute.”
“Yeah.” Lucy nodded. “It is.”
“I wanted to watch, but that made her nervous. She could only paint alone. No biggie. She stayed and I left. And that was the last time I ever saw her.”
“Alive,” Lucy added, though, Christ, what a stupid thing to say. “Sorry.”
Gazing across the lake, Sean stretched his arm around Lucy’s shoulder. “They found her faceup, right over here.”
When he walked, she went with him. What else could she do? She was trapped against his body. Also, though she didn’t want to admit it even to herself, her body began to tingle when he talked about the crime.
“They thought you murdered her in the water,” Lucy said. “Strangled her with your bare hands.”
“On the shoreline.” He led her there. “Where the rock gives way to sand. Just this little patch here. The area isn’t visible from the path. I guess people standing on the opposite shoreline could see way over here, but the murderer would only be a speck. They’d need binoculars to see him properly.”
“They’re sure it was a man?” Lucy asked.
“If it was a woman, she’d have to have some powerful grip and a hell of a weight on her. You couldn’t have done this.”
“I didn’t know I was a suspect,” she teased.
“I didn’t know I was,” Sean shot back. “Not at first. When the police asked me to help with their inquiries, I really thought that’s what I was doing: helping. Can’t believe how dumb I was.”