by J. E. Taylor
“I’ll take that risk,” Steve said and the doctor turned, huffing as she stomped away.
“I could have someone stationed here,” O’Keefe offered.
“And you did such a fantastic job protecting him before.” Steve rolled his eyes. “Tom will be fine at home,” he said. “And I know I can protect him.” He turned and entered the examination room, leaving O’Keefe in the hall.
Tom glanced at the nurse hovering by his side, checking his vitals and then back at Steve.
“I’ll have you out of here within the hour,” Steve said. And I’ll fix you up once we get home.
Tom signed a quick thank you with a wrist encased in a cast and then closed his eyes, laying his head back on the pillow. Steve felt Tom’s discomfort and hoped the pain medicine pumping into his IV would dull it enough so the ride home wasn’t sheer agony.
“The team did this, didn’t they?” Steve asked after the nurse left.
Tom’s eyelids fluttered open and he met Steve’s stare, offering no response. All his mind was broadcasting was a wall of static, shutting Steve off from the answers.
“You’re blocking me.”
A smile made a brief appearance and Tom’s eyes closed, cutting off any further conversation.
Less than an hour later, Steve had all the instructions for Tom’s care, and rolled him out of the exam room, heading toward the exit. Detective O’Keefe followed and when Steve passed the waiting room, he stopped and retraced his steps backwards. Shock filtered through him as his gaze landed on four football players from Tom’s school. The worst of the bunch was one of Tom’s best friends, but his injuries still didn’t compare to Tom’s.
Bear looked up and his eyes widened, his mind opening to Steve and giving him a blow by blow of the entire day. Steve’s hands tightened on the wheelchair handles and he turned away from Bear before the anger pulsing in his veins got loose. Without another word, he walked out and helped Tom into the car before heading home.
Chapter 21
CJ pulled into the house and threw the car in park, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he glanced at his reflection in the rearview mirror. The bruise on his cheek looked as angry as it felt and he wondered what the hell he was doing in Connecticut. Instead of over-thinking, he climbed out of the car. Sitting for two hours left him stiff and the simple movement of walking made him clench his teeth.
The front door seemed so far away but he made it and rang the doorbell, using the doorframe for support and he closed his eyes.
The squeak of the door prompted his eyes to open and he offered a half hearted smile. “Hey, Sandy,” he said, staring into the hazel eyes that motivated him beyond words.
“Chris, oh my god, what happened?” Sandy Connor gasped with wide eyes full of concern. She reached out and pulled him into her arms.
Seeing her opened the floodgates and CJ wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her shoulder, and let the pain of the past few days release. She stood still, running her fingers slowly through his hair and whispering shush, until he got control over the sobs.
“What happened, babe,” she whispered when he pulled away and wiped his face with his shirt.
“I made the mistake of thinking I was invincible,” CJ said and stepped in the house. Sandy closed the door and took his hand, leading him up the stairwell and into the bathroom. Exhaustion crippled his muscles and he slumped on the edge of the counter.
Sandy lowered the toilet lid and pointed. “Sit down and let me clean you up,” she said and he did as she instructed. He smiled as she wet a washcloth and approached him. “I don’t know where to start,” she said.
“How about here,” CJ said pointing to his lips.
The sweet dimple showed in her cheek and she gently wiped his lips.
“Ouch,” he whispered, but kept his gaze locked with hers.
“God, you’re a mess.”
“Gee, thanks,” he said, finding some humor in her concern. He blinked and looked around the bathroom, becoming aware of how empty the house was. “Your parents aren’t home, are they?”
“No, they aren’t,” she said and wiped the blood off his chin. “How in heaven’s name did you drive like this?” She took the cloth to the sink, rinsing it before she returned.
“All I could think of was you,” he said and took the cloth out of her hand, tossing it on the counter. He stood; taking her face in his hands and planting a kiss, ignoring the twinge of pain. Instead, he concentrated on the way she tenderly kissed him back, allowing him to explore her mouth with his tongue.
“Chris,” she whispered, pulling away and meeting his gaze. “Talk to me.”
The way she said his proper name sent shivers down his spine and he melted into her. Sandy never called him by his nickname; she preferred his real name, saying it was more intimate and special. She had no idea how powerful an aphrodisiac it was to him.
“Later,” he said and slid his hands under the hem of her shirt, her soft skin set him on fire and every nuance of pain altered to a burning need.
She tilted her head, her gaze scanning down the length of his body and back. “You really are a mess. A hot mess, but a mess just the same,” she grinned. “You really need to clean up.”
He glanced in the mirror and couldn’t argue with her assessment. “Only if you join me,” he said.
She rolled her eyes.
“Then at least help me with my shirt.”
The dimples appeared briefly and she stepped forward, running her hands under his shirt. He winced and pulled away when her fingers grazed one of his ribs and her intense gaze transitioned to worry. She immediately peeled his shirt over his head and stared at his chest, her hand flying to cover her mouth.
“You need a hospital, not a shower,” she said.
His light mood soured and he turned toward the mirror, visually inspecting the swollen discolored skin covering the lower right quadrant of his ribs. He closed his eyes, taking stock of his wounds for the first time. “It’s just a bruise and while it hurts like hell, nothing’s broken.”
“How do you know you’re not bleeding internally?” She ran a finger along the edge of the bruise.
“Because, I know.” He pulled her against him, his hormones overrode the pain again and he covered her protest with his mouth, kissing her more insistently. She didn’t stop him this time when his hands slid under her shirt, and when he broke the kiss to peel the fabric over her head, she let him.
His gaze dropped to the curve of her cleavage and he grinned, lowering his lips to her throat and following the natural arc right into the center of her ample breasts. Hunger possessed him, devouring his willpower and his fingers fumbled with the button on her pants. When her hands covered his, he pulled away, meeting her gaze.
“I need you.” The simple truth tumbled from his lips.
“Maybe you need a cold shower,” she said removing his hands from her beltline.
“Come on, Sandy, we’ve been together for years.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m ready for this,” she said.
CJ lifted his hands and stepped back, irritation skating across his overheated skin. “Fine,” he snapped and turned away, reaching behind the curtain and turning on the water. He stripped and stepped into the shower without glancing in her direction.
The warm water stung the bruises covering his skin and he winced, reaching for the soap. The fruity scent drifted on the air and he ran the bar over his throbbing skin, letting pain fill the space that desire had moments before.
He turned and let the water beat on his face and then ran his hands through his hair. When the air shifted, he turned his head toward the draft. His gaze landed on hers and he froze.
“I thought…,” he whispered.
She shrugged and attempted to cover herself, self-conscious of her naked form and he turned, stepping toward her, not knowing quite what to do to make her comfortable.
“You’re beautiful,” he said.
“So are you,” s
he replied and her gaze dropped before it bounced back to his face.
He smiled. “You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready,” he said and tucked a wet fly away behind her ear.
“I’m scared.”
CJ stepped closer and looked down into the interesting hazel pattern of her eyes. “Why?”
“I don’t want to be just another conquest,” she whispered and avoided his questioning stare.
He arched his eyebrows. “I’m still a virgin, Sandy.”
Her gaze shot to his and her mouth dropped. “I just thought…”
“You thought what?”
“I don’t know. Tom’s got a reputation up in York, so I just assumed…” she trailed off and shrugged.
“So, you just assumed because Tom tags anything in a skirt, so do I?”
“Well, look at you.” She waved her hand at his well-defined physique.
“I’ve been exclusively yours since my father’s funeral.” He leaned in to kiss her and paused, his brow knitting as a new thought surfaced. “Am I just a summer fling to you?” He stepped back under the stream of water putting distance between them.
“Come on, Chris, you know me better than that.” She closed the distance, planting a kiss on his chest. “You’ve been in my head; you know how I feel about you.”
“I know. But every now and then doubt gets the best of me,” he said and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against him under the warm spray. “I’ve waited so long for this,” he whispered. He wanted to taste every inch of her and started with her lips before trailing kisses down her neck. He cradled her breasts in his palms, running his thumbs over her nipples, smiling as they hardened under his touch. Another glance in her eyes confirmed she was as ready for this as he was and he dropped to his knees, letting the warm water cascade over them while he played with her, learning what she liked and what she didn’t by trial and error, thankful he had a window into her soul.
When she was wetter than the shower, he stood and turned off the water, opting for her bed rather than the hard wall of the shower for their first time. With his lips locked on hers, he headed to her bedroom, tossing a towel on the bed before he laid her down under him.
He paused, searching her eyes for hesitation, for a reason not to follow through on everything his body was demanding.
“Are you sure?” he asked and she nodded.
“I need to hear you say it,” he whispered.
“Yes, Chris, I’m sure,” she said, the words came out in a breath of heat searing his soul.
Sandy’s eyes widened as his hips met hers, that sudden shatter of her innocence sent a wave of pain through her, dulling the excitement and CJ inhaled from the shock of it. He moved his hips slowly until her pain transitioned and the deep crease between her eyes smoothed.
“You like it slow?” he asked and got a smile in return, their hips continuing to circle in a rhythm that drove him crazy. The feel of her overwhelmed him and he closed his eyes, attempting to gain control but she was just too delicious, too perfect.
He opened his eyes and stilled, her squeak of protest brought a smile to his face.
“Have I told you I loved you, lately?” he asked.
“Yes,” she whispered and pulled him to her lips.
The kiss smashed his willpower and he moved faster, in time with her heart and the wave hit, seizing every muscle in his body with his release. When his lungs finally pulled in a breath, the rush of blood through his veins roared in his ears and he collapsed on her, his forehead resting next to her ear.
“My god,” he gasped and turned his head, meeting her satiated gaze.
With the last of his strength, he rolled pulling her onto his chest without uncoupling. His eyelids dropped as her wet hair fanned out over his shoulder.
“I love you, too,” she whispered and seemed to snuggle closer. “Are you going to tell me what happened now?”
He ran his fingers through her hair and sighed. “They think Tom’s the Windwalker,” he said as if that would explain everything.
“What?” Her head shot off his chest.
“The Windwalker killed Tom’s girlfriend and he was arrested for her murder. Tanya was one of the cheerleaders and some of the guys on the team believe he’s guilty so they beat him up,” he said. “And I lost it.”
She searched his eyes, letting the information settle in. “I certainly hope the other guy looks worse than you do,” she said tracing the bruise on his cheek.
“They do,” CJ said, stretching the truth.
“They?”
“Yes. In my infinite wisdom, I decided to take on seven linebackers.”
Her mouth dropped open. “What made you do something that stupid?”
“They put Tom in the hospital,” he answered. “And I’m pretty sure I broke a couple bones, so I didn’t want to hang around for the fallout.”
She took his hand and kissed his swollen knuckles before returning her gaze to his. “At least you didn’t kill them,” she whispered.
“I wanted to,” he admitted.
“But, you didn’t.”
“No. I didn’t even use my abilities during the fight,” he said.
“I would have never guessed,” she said and rolled her eyes.
It hurt to grin, but he did anyway and he shifted his hips, creating friction between them and she giggled.
“If I had known sleeping with you would be this incredible, I wouldn’t have waited so long.”
“Oh, I knew it would be beyond incredible,” he smiled and pulled her to his lips.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
CJ’s heart lurched and his head snapped in the direction of the door along with Sandy’s.
Her father stood in the entry, his hands balled into fists and his face as red as a fire engine. His glare squared on CJ and he pointed his finger, clenching his teeth before moving his fiery gaze to Sandy.
When his gaze returned to CJ, he growled, “Get dressed and get the hell out of my house.” He turned and stomped down the stairs.
“Oh, shit,” he cursed and Sandy rolled off him, grabbing clothing from her bureau and pulling it on before she turned to CJ. Her eyes were wide with terror and he crossed to the bathroom, putting his underwear and jeans on. He scanned the room for his missing shirt.
“Where’s my shirt?” he asked Sandy.
Sandy shrugged and glanced over her shoulder at the stairwell.
“Screw it,” he said and headed downstairs with Sandy following.
“Uncle Dan,” he said stepping into the kitchen.
Dan Connor spun toward him, his finger pointing like a loaded gun. “You’re not my nephew so stop referring to me as your Uncle. Just because your mother and I were married at one time doesn’t give you the right to call me that. Now get out!” His finger moved toward the door. “I don’t ever want to see you around my daughter again.”
“But I’m in love with her,” CJ said, his mind reeling at the thought of never seeing her again.
“I will not let another Ryan destroy my family,” he growled.
“I’m not my father, sir,” CJ said.
“I don’t care. Your father destroyed everything that was sacred and dear to me. I’m not letting you do the same.”
“Don’t I have a say?” Sandy said from behind CJ.
“No, you don’t,” Dan said. “Not while you’re living under my roof.”
“Then I’ll leave,” she said, taking CJ’s hand and stepping next to him, jutting her chin out in defiance.
Dan’s glare shot between the two of them, landing back on CJ and he blinked, really seeing him for the first time. His gaze honed in on the bruise on CJ’s cheek and then the large discoloration on his rib cage and back to his face.
“What happened to you?” he asked, the edge still in his voice, but the venom had softened.
“I took on the football team after they put Tom in the hospital.”
“Tom’s in the hospital?”
; “Yes. They took him from school in an ambulance,” CJ said and squeezed Sandy’s hand for support. She squeezed back letting him know she wasn’t letting him go.
Dan’s brow creased and his arms crossed. “What happened?”
“They believed the news stories.”
“About your father?”
“No, about the Windwalker.”
Dan’s hands dropped to his side. “What news stories?” he asked, the confusion clear in the crease between his eyes.
“They think Tom is the Windwalker.”
Silence settled in the kitchen as Dan processed the statement.
“Tom?”
CJ nodded.
“What’s Steve doing about it?”
“He’s under investigation from the fallout with my father, so he isn’t in charge of the Windwalker case anymore.”
“Jesus,” Dan whispered and closed his eyes. The anger still burned under the now calm exterior, but it wasn’t as dangerous as it had been when he saw them in bed. He opened his eyes and exhaled. “Steve and Jen don’t know you’re here, do they?”
“No, sir,” CJ said. “They think I’m at work.”
Before Dan could respond, the phone rang and Dan grabbed it off the cradle. “Connor residence,” he said through clenched teeth. His gaze landed on CJ. “Yes, he’s here, but he was just leaving.”
“What the hell were you thinking?”
CJ turned and stared into Steve’s angry gaze.
“You know, I hated it when his father did that,” Dan said from across the room and he slammed the phone on the counter.
“Sorry,” Steve said, but his gaze never left CJ’s. “O’Keefe has an arrest warrant.”
CJ pressed his lips together as irritation snaked through him. “Bear filed a complaint?”
Steve nodded. “His father didn’t take too kindly to you breaking his hand or his ribs.”
“Did he tell his father he broke his hand punching me?” Anger laced through his words and he waved toward his bruised chest. “And what about what they did to Tom?”