Escalation

by Tessa Teevan

  “No, Brie. You wanted this, you wanted me, and you got them both. I want you to look at me while I fuck you. Look at me when I make you come. Look me and know that I have always had your best interests at heart. I will always give you what you want. What you need. Always.” He drives into me as if to emphasize his point, but my mind is too cloudy with lust to let it penetrate.

  As I shake my head, moisture pools in my eyes. “I can’t,” I whisper.

  “Then I can’t either,” he whispers.

  If it weren’t already broken, my heart would shatter as he pulls out of me.

  The fight in my body departs. I unwrap my legs from around his waist then allow my feet to hit the tile. The cool sensation makes me shiver, but it’s more than that. Rafe whispers my name again, his thumb and forefinger on my chin as he coaxes me to look at him, but I can’t.

  “I can’t either.”

  The memory of his words is exactly what I need to break myself out of my lust-filled trance. Suddenly, shame for what I’ve done washes over me. Throwing a tantrum and yelling at him. Then throwing myself at him only for him to stop halfway through.

  My hands lie flat on his chest and I push him back, catching him off guard. He stumbles then falls, thanks to the pants around his ankles. I use the distraction to rush down the hall as my vision clouds with tears. The distraction apparently isn’t long enough, though, because before I’m even in the guest bedroom, I’m hauled up in his arms. He scoops me up like a small child, his strength once again astounding me.

  With gentle ease, he carries me down the hall, bypassing the guest bedroom where I’d expected to sleep, and into the master bedroom. Once he’s entered the bathroom, he turns on the shower, cautiously setting me down. I stand completely still as he removes my shirts and my bra and gestures for me to get into the shower. I do so, more than ready to wash the day away and escape him.

  My reprieve, however, is short-lived.

  As he steps into the shower and closes the door behind him, my eyes widen—then shamelessly rake over his naked, now wet, body. How does he always affect me like this?

  Water droplets kiss his tan skin, and the blue of his eyes darkens the longer he watches me. His gaze is unnerving, and I have the urge to look away, but I can’t. We’re locked in a standoff, neither of us making the first move. Finally, I can’t take his close proximity anymore, so I’m the first to break.

  “I get it, Rafe. You can’t do this,” I mutter through clenched teeth, crossing my arms over my breasts even though he’s seen everything. “So you can go. I can do this myself.”

  He rubs a hand over his face and lets out a distressed sigh as if he’s fighting a mental battle. “Dammit, Brie, that’s not what I meant,” he grumbles, pushing me up against the cool wall of the tile.

  The sensations mix with the warmth of my skin, startling me but not dampening the fire burning inside me. The one burning for him.

  Rising on my tiptoes, I allow my gaze to reach his. “Just stop talking,” I request.

  With a low growl, he readily complies. Once again, my legs wrap around his waist, his cock teasing my entrance.

  “Tell me that this is what you want,” he insists, unmoving.

  “More than anything,” I admit, wriggling my hips, trying to draw him in.

  “Tell me that it’s not too late for us,” he says, his tone almost pleading.

  “Rafe,” I whisper.

  The quick flash of agony is in his eyes is enough for me.

  I lean forward and place my forehead on his. “I wouldn’t be here if it was.”

  His eyes briefly close. When they open, they’re intense as he pushes into me and I could get lost in them. His free hand pushes on the back of my head as his lips find mine. His kiss is gentle, tentative, a complete contradiction to the way he's filling me—fast, deep, and hard. Almost as if it’s a physical manifestation of the battle waging with himself. As if he wants to be gentle but he still has a savage, primal need to take me.

  And right now, I want the savage.

  I melt into him, pushing my tongue through the barrier of his lips and finding his. This time, the kiss is more passionate, more purposeful, as his tongue probes and explores my mouth.

  While the water beats on his back, his hips move in a glorious cadence that has my orgasm building quickly. This is exactly what I needed. To be so connected to him, our bodies so in tune, that everything else melts away. In this shower, nothing else matters but us. Here, he’s who I think he is. Who he’s shown me he is. I may not know everything, but I know enough. And even though my whole world is about to change, I give myself this. I let him give me this, and I can only hope that, when it’s over, these memories will be enough.

  “God, Brie. I can’t hold on any longer,” he pants, biting down on my lower lip.

  The pain shoots a rush of pleasure straight between my legs, and as his hand slides between us, he pushes his thumb against my clit, causing me to cry out into his mouth.

  As much as I want to prolong this moment, the assault on my clit sends me over the edge. Rafe pumps faster, harder, as my walls clench around him. His arms wrap around me, holding me tight as his cock jerks up into me, his own release taking over. The way he’s holding me is intimate, and I want to stay in his arms, just like this, for the rest of my life. Our bodies are slick with both water and sweat, our chests pressing against each other hard and tight. It’s as if we’re holding on for dear life, and part of me wonders if that’s exactly what we’re doing.

  Even after we’ve both come down from our highs, he’s still buried inside me to the hilt. I’m still wrapped up around him, my arms and legs securely fastened to his body. One of his arms is holding tight on to my waist, the other firmly gripping my hair. Our lips are locked but unmoving. No, we’re both immobile, save for the heaving of our chests as our breaths mingle. They rise and fall as the emotional whirlwind swirls in the air around us.

  He doesn’t want to let go.

  I don’t want him to.

  I have no idea how long we stand here or who makes the first move. But, all too soon, the spell has broken and our connection is severed.

  His mouth tears away from mine, and he swallows hard as his eyes bore into mine. The intensity in them mirrors my own, I’m sure. We both have so much to say—we just can’t say it. Not yet. Not here. Not now. This place, this experience, is sacred, and neither of us is willing to allow it to be tainted.

  Still, the moment is over.

  Or so I think.

  He, apparently, has other plans. Ones I am oh so okay with.

  His strong hands come to my legs, loosening them, allowing me to slide down his slick body. I tear my gaze away from him and bend to grab the shampoo, but he grasps it from my hands.

  “Turn around,” he orders—gently, but it’s still an order.

  I do as he requested, and slowly, his hands massage my hair as he washes it.

  “You’re exhausted, Brie, and you need to sleep. Let me do this for you.”

  In all of our time together, I never felt more intimately connected with him than I do now. He doesn’t just wash me. He worships every single inch of my body, stopping every so often on my belly. His reverence is no longer saved just for me. It’s now for our baby, and I swallow hard as tears and emotions well up inside me. Just as I think the dam is going to burst, Rafe stands and moves me under the spray, rinsing me off.

  His tenderness continues as he wraps a towel around me, drying me off. I hold my hands up as he slips one of his oversized T-shirts on me, and I don’t protest when he picks me up and gently places me on his bed. Then he tucks me in and hovers over me for a moment before leaning down and kissing me on my forehead.

  “Get some rest, baby,” he whispers. “I promise we’ll talk when you wake.”

  I nod. His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t say another word. It’s not until he’s almost to the door that I stop him.

  “Just tell me one thing before you go.”

  The muscles on his ba
ck ripple as his shoulders lift and fall in time with his sharp intake of breath. Slowly, he turns, swallowing hard.

  “Anything, Brie,” he whispers. “I’ll tell you anything. All you have to do is ask.”

  “Was any of it real?”

  His eyes flare with flashes of anger, and then he shuts them forcefully. When they open, they’re softer, and the anger has been replaced with anguish. The question was cruel, but in the darkness of the room, in the intimacy of this space, I need to know.

  “Everything I felt—everything I feel—is genuine. All of it.”

  I don’t know what to say. I want to believe him, but at the same time, I’m so confused about everything that’s happened. Tears swim in my eyes, clouding my vision. “Okay. Goodnight, Rafe,” I whisper before turning over, curling up, and pulling the covers over my shoulders.

  He shuffles a few steps forward before he stops himself. He stands there for a few moments, his gaze burning holes into my back. He wants to offer comfort. He wants to offer space. He’s fighting the same war that I am.

  Even as he goes to leave, I want to call for him, but I don’t. Instead, I stare at the wall, and when exhaustion finally sets in and my eyes drift shut, I still wish he were here.

  THE SCOTCH GOES DOWN smoothly, but it does little to take the edge off. Brie’s sleeping in my room, and I’m camped out on the couch like a husband in the doghouse. Which, I guess, I am. Not that we’re married—or anywhere close to it. But the sentiment remains the same. I fucked up, and because of it, I can’t hold her or comfort her right now when she needs me the most.

  It’s killing me to be separated from her.

  The most painful thing a man can experience is losing the woman he loves. The second most painful experience is almost having lost the woman he loves and then still be teetering on that edge. It could go either way, and I’m helpless to change the outcome.

  Did I say love?

  Scratch that.

  Or not.

  Who fucking knows? It’s been a fucked-up twenty-four hours. When I thought I’d lost her¸ my heart nearly stopped. If I examine that further, it’s because mine’s connected with hers. She’s buried so fucking deep in my heart that the thought of her dying?

  Un-fucking-bearable.

  So is that love?

  Maybe. I was so close to telling her that earlier, but she stopped me before the word could leave my lips.

  Hell, I don’t even know what I feel anymore. Whatever it is, it’s strong and lasting, and I refuse to give up.

  I will give Brie her space. I will give Brie her time. I will give her whatever she needs. But there’s one thing I won’t give her.

  My departure.

  Even if it takes the rest of my life, I will find a way for her to be able to trust me again. There’s so much more than her or me riding on this. Whether she likes it or not, we’re a family, and that’s one thing I’ll never do. Abandon my family.

  The longer I sit here, the more brooding I become. The confliction of how best to interact with her has compounded tenfold since we left the hospital. All I wanted was to feed her and get her into bed. She was practically ready to fall over from sheer exhaustion, and I was only trying to help.

  That was my first mistake.

  The way she finally blew up wasn’t all that surprising. I’d been expecting it. Hell, once she has a good night’s sleep, I’m expecting more of it. I make a mental note to be prepared.

  Then, out of nowhere, her demeanor changed and she was flying at me, clawing at my clothes. The way she rubbed herself over my hard dick was enticing, tempting, and it took everything for me to stop her from mounting me right there in the hall.

  Trying to turn her away?

  That was my second mistake.

  But when she wouldn’t look me in the eyes, I nearly lost it. Her refusal to meet my gaze cut me to the core, and I couldn’t stand the thought that my dick was inside her, she was moaning against my lips, and I couldn’t see her eyes. The idea that she didn’t want to see me as we came together was agonizing. Was she picturing someone else?

  But the experience we had in the shower?

  It was worth those few seconds of anguish.

  Brie may be angry. She may be hurt. When she finally learns everything, she may curse and scream and damn my name, but I still have hope. Deep down, she still cares for me. That much is evident, and I will do whatever it takes to coax those feelings back to the surface. Even if it means fucking her senseless in the shower every day until she finally admits it.

  The doorbell rings, tearing me from my thoughts. I take quick, long strides to the door, on edge as to who it could possibly be.

  “Fuck,” I mutter when I look through the peephole. As quickly as I can, I undo the lock and make a mental note to install at least two more. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  Agent Howard has a few manila folders in his arms. He holds one out to me, and I look down at the Post-it note on the cover.

  Bugs?

  I shake my head. “Swept as soon as Brie went to sleep,” I mouth.

  He nods. His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he gestures inside. “How about you let me out of the hallway, Matthews?”

  Raising an eyebrow, I open the door wide and he storms in, stopping just inside. After shutting the door, I turn to him and lean back against it.

  “Back to Matthews?”

  The bastard has the audacity to glare at me. “You should’ve known better than to get involved. It’s your own fucking fault you’re in this mess.”

  “Yeah, well, fuck you very much,” I offer, pushing off the door and brushing past him.

  He follows as I stalk down the hall and head into the kitchen, where I pour myself three more fingers of liquor.

  “Jesus Christ, Matthews. It’s barely five o’clock.” The disdain on Howard’s face is evident. The guy doesn’t even try to hide his disapproving scowl.

  I shrug and toss it back, earning a shake of the head from Howard. Not that I give a shit what the guy thinks of me. “Yeah, well, it’s been a rough twenty-four hours. My girlfriend was kidnapped, almost drowned, and then you decided to inform her of who I am before I could. I’m a little fucking on edge. Why are you even here? The last thing you should be doing is showing up at my apartment. You never know who’s watching.”

  “It’s precisely about who’s watching. Since she’s staying here, they’d expect me or someone else with a badge to come here. It’d be more suspicious if we didn’t.”

  I hate to admit it, but the guy’s right. Still, I won’t say the words out loud, so I just nod.

  Agent Howard sighs and throws a couple of folders onto the counter between us. “I still think this is a fucking mistake, but here're your damn files. You better hope you don’t get caught with these.”

  “There’s something in them. I know it, and I think Brie can help uncover whatever it is.”

  “I think you’re off your rocker. Just as you should be off this case, but it’s not my call. For some reason, the brass seems to agree with you. Be careful what all you divulge, Matthews. There are so many fine lines in this career, and you’re already crossing them. One tiny misstep could force you over the edge and ruin everything.”

  My chest tightens as my jaw does. I know he’s right, but there’s no way I’ll admit that to him. Instead, I give him a terse nod.

  “Duly noted,” I say. “I’ve got it all under control, Howard.”

  He raises an eyebrow. “If you say so.” He flicks his business card onto my counter. “We’ll give Brie today, but first thing tomorrow, I want her down at the station so we can question her.”

  “I can do that myself, Howard,” I tell him through clenched teeth.

  “No. Absolutely not. You’re way too close to the situation—on both ends, Matthews. Do what you need to do here, but don’t interfere with me. In turn, I won’t do the same to you.”

  “Fine. As soon as she’s up for it.”

  His eyes narrow. “Tom
orrow. And be careful. That line is getting thinner.”

  Before I can respond, he walks down the hall, showing himself out. I pour another drink, downing it quickly. The burning in my chest isn’t enough to calm me down.

  His warning echoes in my mind, nothing drowning it out. Nothing, that is, until I hear her screams.

  I race down the hall and find Brie thrashing in the bed, the covers twisting and turning around her. Her eyes are clamped shut, and she’s gasping for air.

  “No, no. Adrian!” Her voice is thick and raspy. “Don’t do this!”

  As quickly as I can, I cross the room, turn the bedside lamp on, and pull her into my arms. She thrashes and flails, her dainty hands trying to push me away, but they aren’t strong enough to do so.

  “Brie,” I whisper, but the sound is drowned out by her shrieks.

  One hand wraps around her waist, pulling her into me, as the other moves to her hair, trying to soothe her fears. My lips find her ear, and I whisper—soft, sweet, low enough for only her to hear.

  Suddenly, I don’t get the phrase whispering sweet nothings.

  Because, right now, what I’m whispering to the woman in my arms?

  It’s everything.

  Her eyes flutter open, wide and full of fear until they find my face. Her relief is unmistakable. The fact that my face, my presence, sets her at ease does something to me. It lets me know that there is hope for us. That she wasn’t just looking for a physical reprieve. Suddenly, I can’t help myself—I lean in close and press a gentle kiss to her lips.

  “You’re safe, Brie. I promise,” I whisper as I pull back, my thumb stroking her silky cheek. “I won’t let him hurt you—ever again.”

  “I was so scared,” she admits, letting out a deep breath.