by L. B. Dunbar
Blink.
I didn’t feel safe, and I refused to play. Whatever his way was this evening, this wasn’t my way. I didn’t need to meet his parents. In fact, I despised them for trying to prove their son’s innocence. His mother I faulted twice, for being a woman and not coming to my defense, despite Tack being her son. It was inexcusable, and her eyes on mine proved she knew the truth of her guilt. She was warning me to walk away, fearing her son was a monster after all, a terror like her husband.
I glared back at Rory. “Let me pass,” I spat, clenching my hands at my side.
“You know, you’re more beautiful than I remember,” he said, pressing off the door and stepping toward me. His hand reached for my jaw, not in the loving way Tack did, but in a manner where he cupped under my chin and clutched my jawbone. I winced.
“Get your hands off me,” I snarled, pressing against his firm chest, but his free hand encircled my wrist.
“Oh, my hands are going to be all over you, sweetheart.”
“Tack will kill you,” I snapped, worried for an instant this was the very thing Tack wanted to happen. My heart galloped and then plummeted to my stomach.
“Tack knows the rule. We share everything.” His face came closer to mine. His lips nearing my mouth but holding an inch away. “And I never had my turn.”
He spun me to face the wall, and I groaned as the breath rushed out of my lungs when my chest slammed against the tile. The same forest green color that filled the club caked the wall, but the rough texture was a false feature. The jungle was not like this. Rory’s body pressed against my back, his erection firmly placed against my backside.
“Get off me,” I hissed again, struggling with the weight of him behind me and my wrist pinned over my head.
“Oh, I plan to get off on you, Mouse.” The nickname crossing his lips at the shell of my ear made me prickle. I was trapped. Sensing my urge to scream, his second hand covered my mouth.
“My turn,” he groaned, releasing my wrist and slipping his hand over my breast. Tears sprang to my eyes at the violation. This couldn’t be happening again. Not like this. Not here. Not with Tack in the other room. With hands free, I tried to press off the wall, only to have him slam me back against the tile with the strength of his body.
“Juliet?” The soft sound of my name from Tack’s voice, sounding more like himself, the Tack I knew, made the tears fall harder. I struggled to make a noise.
“What the fuck?” The door slammed against the wall and Rory’s body slackened.
“Just taking my turn,” Rory said as he released me. I spun to see him thrown against the vanity.
“Jesus, man,” Rory said, straightening his coat, looking up in time to have Tack’s fist connect with his face.
“Tack,” I screamed, reaching for his arm, but he was too quick, hitting Rory in the abs next.
“What the fuck, I asked. Who do you think you are? She’s mine,” Tack yelled, gripping Rory’s designer shirt and yanking him forward. Rory spat a mouthful of blood at Tack.
“We were to share her.” Blood dripped from his nose as well.
“We never should have done that,” Tack said. “Never. Don’t look at her,” he demanded as Rory’s eyes shifted to me. One eye was already swelling as his nose continued to bleed.
“She wanted it,” Rory said. “Rick—“
“Don’t speak his name in front of her,” Tack commanded, jostling Rory. “He didn’t know shit. He didn’t know her.”
“And now that you’re all up in her, you do? That bitch killed my brother.”
“That woman is my going to be my wife, and I don’t care what she did,” Tack snapped and Rory’s one eye opened wider.
“He was your best friend.”
“He was a rapist,” Tack said, pushing Rory away from him. He shifted so his side was to Rory, keeping an eye on him. From his other side, he held out a hand to me. “Juliet.”
I shook my head, my body trembling so hard I didn’t think I could move.
“Juliet, baby,” Tack said firmly, demanding I take his offered hand. I still hadn’t moved, my body pressed against the putrid green tile. He’d taken the island and tarnished the memory in this club. My palms flattened against the rough wall, willing my body to disappear, as if I could slip through the hard surface like I used to hide in the jungle brush. He stepped toward me, and I flinched. Instantly, I was cradled into his arms.
“Hold on, Mouse. I’m getting you out of here.” I heard the words but didn’t feel them. Numb inside, I let my arms lay slack. “Mouse, help me. Wrap your arms around me.” He stumbled with the dead weight of my body. “Please, Mouse. Don’t give up.” With those words, I slipped a hand around his neck, using it as minimal leverage to hold myself against him.
“What happened?” His father asked as we reached the small entryway outside the party room.
“We’re getting out of here,” Tack said, pressing the elevator button with his elbow.
“We need to discuss her,” his father said, shifting his eyes to me.
“There’s nothing to discuss. I made a mistake.”
“We all agree you did that,” Terror Corbin snorted, implying a night years ago.
“Not that mistake,” Tack rectified. “A mistake in bringing her here. In hoping I could show you how beautiful and smart she is, and you would accept that I’d made my peace and so has she.” His eyes fell to mine questioning the blank expression on my face. He looked back to his father and stepped into the elevator when the doors opened.
“I don’t need your approval. I wanted it, as I always have. But I don’t need it for this. Not for her love.” With those words, the doors closed on his family, and we descended. I reached up and wrapped my other hand around his neck. He wasn’t going to set me down, but I still felt like I was falling.
27
Tack
“Juliet.” As many times as I said her name, she hadn’t looked at me. Her body still trembled against mine and only the relief I had was she still allowed me to touch her.
Rory. What a cocksucker. I don’t know how he’d gotten into the club, or where he came from, but in my attempts to play it cool, I hadn’t kicked him out. Then I saw the horror on her face and everything rushed back to me. I don’t know what I was thinking bringing her to Consequence. The club wasn’t a place I visited often myself and I owned the property. And as for my parents. Like I told my dad, I wanted his approval but I didn’t know why. I’d hardly had it for anything I’d done in life. The only person I wanted to approve of me was Juliet, and she sat like a quivering pebble next to me. My hand rubbed up and down her bare arm in this beautiful dress that took my breath away the moment she entered the room. I wanted to rip it off her and burn it knowing he’d had his hands on her.
I’d murmured so many I’m sorrys into her hair, she eventually closed her eyes, shutting out the sight of me. She hadn’t spoken.
Different but the same. I’d promised and I failed. After the conversation I’d had with my father that morning, I was shaken. I’d made another huge mistake in assuming he’d stop judging me if he could just see that I was happy, and she was the reason. Instead, he snapped.
How can you be with that harlot? he had barked into the phone.
Women like her aren’t for marriage, he’d added after she excused herself from the room. I hadn’t noticed Rory slip out, as I was too engaged in arguing with my dad. Granted, the bombshell of announcing her as my fiancée hadn’t gone how I had planned, but I figured ripping off the bandage was the best way to break the news to them. I didn’t realize I’d break Juliet instead.
Broken was exactly how she looked sitting next to me. Her skin cold. Her eyes closed. Her fingers gripping the car’s seat. Henry was driving us back to my place in Baltimore. Juliet was strong inside and I told myself she just needed time to work through what happened. I didn’t have the patience to return her to St. Michael’s and The Mouse Trap. We needed to be alone and soon.
“Where are we?” sh
e asked, when we arrived at my condominium.
“Home,” I replied and she blinked at me, the first moment she’d acknowledged me.
“I don’t live here.” She drew in a deep breath. “I don’t belong here.” Panic filled her voice and she leaned forward, her hand reaching for the door handle.
“You belong wherever I am. We belong together,” I told her, reaching for her wrist and pulling back her arm. “Henry drive,” I barked, rapping on the window between us. The privacy window went up and the car pulled back into the lane as Juliet tried to scramble away from me.
“What?” she snapped, shifting to face me. “Now you’re going to trap me in this car?”
“I just want to stay here until you calm down.”
“Calm down? Calm down!” she yelled. “How could you do this to me? Of all the people who knew how difficult it would be to go to that location, be on that floor, how could you take me there?” She paused, huffing out a breath. “And your parents? Your father is vile. And your mother, she’s like the walking dead. She’s not only afraid of him, she’s afraid of you. She warned me against you.”
“When?” She’d shifted to face me but my eyes remained forward, taking her harshness like a blow to the cheek.
“When I met her. She told me I was brave and then she looked at you with fear.” I swiped a hand through my hair. I’d brought Juliet to show my mother I could be a gentleman, that I was doing the right thing by her, and she still didn’t believe in me.
“You know what, fuck them. I don’t need them. I only need you.” My voice fell on the last statement as I reached for her hand. She pulled back, and I let my fingers fall to her thigh. She brushed it away, tugging at the dress, which was shorter when she sat. She looked so beautiful, but so angry.
“How can you touch me?” she asked. “How can you touch me after him? How could you let him touch me?”
I spun to face her, gripping her arm with rough hands. “I would never let him touch you. I didn’t even know he’d followed you until I came in search of you myself.”
“He said you would share me. He said you share everything.”
“Never,” I hissed. “Never again.” The clarification cost me. Her eyes opened wide but she already knew my sins. “Do you think so little of me?”
“I don’t know what to think. I don’t know who you are. That isn’t the you I know. The you I trust. The man I love.”
My hands slipped down her arm in defeat. I didn’t even recognize myself. I’d tried to fall into the role I’d held before—Tack Corbin, club owner, business mogul, son of Terror—and bring her with me. It didn’t work. That wasn’t me anymore, and it wasn’t right for her. I was a better me with her.
“I can’t do this,” she said. “Let me out of this car.”
“What are you saying?” She banged on the privacy window and Henry lowered the glass.
“Take me home,” she pled with him. “Get me out of here.” Henry’s eyes met mine through the rearview mirror. I nodded and he replied, “As you wish.” He turned onto the interstate heading for her apartment.
+ +
When we arrived at her home, I followed her.
“What are you doing?” she asked, looking at me over her shoulder.
“I’m not leaving. Last night without you was hell.” I hadn’t liked sleeping without her. I missed the feel of her next to me in bed.
“You’re the one who sent me here without you.” The snip to her voice shouldn’t have surprised me. I didn’t have words to respond. She was correct. I had sent her here, thinking I needed to prepare my condo for her, brace my parents for our announcement, and go into my office, where I hadn’t been in nearly three weeks. Instead, I’d slept restlessly without her, given myself a headache in trying to rationalize with my father, and not completed one bit of work. I was a mess.
“I’m sorry. How many times can I say it? This was hard for me.” Piercing eyes looked up at me.
“Do you think this was easy for me?” Her voice was low, and my heart begged to be ripped from my chest. “It’s taken me years to get this far. I was on a good path. Life was fine.”
“Until I returned.” She remained in her doorway, blocking the entrance to her apartment.
“Did you think we could just come back here and pretend nothing ever happened? Different but the same? We have a history that other people know began under…” Her voice faltered. Under a rape. Under a court case. Under a restoration process. “Did you think I could fall into place with them? I don’t want to be anywhere near them.” She leaned against the door jamb, her arms wrapped around her middle. My ring still glistened on her finger.
“I wanted them to accept you, accept us.”
“Why?”
“Because all my life he’s disapproved. I just wanted him to see I was doing something right.” My hands flapped in the air before swiping through my hair. “I wanted my mom to see I’m happy.”
She didn’t return the smile I tried to give her.
“Why was Abby there?”
I sighed. “My father called it reinforcements. He didn’t realize I’d be announcing our engagement. He thought if the Goodwins were present, I’d be reminded where my loyalty lay. He hoped I’d be swayed away from you.”
“Are you?”
“Mouse.” I exhaled in warning, shaking my head as my hands slipped into my pockets. “Can we please go inside?”
I didn’t want to keep airing everything in the hallway. She stepped back, and I entered her shabby chic apartment. Done in soft white and pale blues, it was comforting although a bit feminine. The couch was a bright blue color, but I didn’t feel comfortable sitting. She walked toward a small kitchen island, separating the seating area from a galley-style kitchen. Bracing her back against it, she placed her hands on the counter, gripping the edge.
“Why was Rory there?”
“I have no fucking idea.” A huff escaped, and I decided to take a seat after all, sitting heavily on her couch. Taking a look around her apartment, I realized we had only existed in a tent, a tree house, and a hotel resort room. We’d never spent time in a living room or near a kitchen. It was a little strange and a lot removed from where we had come from. Suddenly, our redemptive island seemed a million miles away, like her.
“He said he wanted his turn.” She shivered and I wanted to reach for her, but I sensed my touch would not be welcome. “What if you hadn’t come for me?” Her voice choked, her body visibly shaking as if her skin crawled.
“I told you. I’d always find you, Mouse.” A sob escaped, and this time I stood, approaching her.
“I love you,” I whispered as I tugged her to me. She didn’t return my embrace, and my heart shattered.
“Prove it,” she said, and I pulled back from her. With her eyes closed, and her voice low, she spoke again. “Take away the memory.”
Bracing my hands at the edge of the lace covering her breasts, I ripped the material, exposing two gorgeous globes eager for my touch. Her nipples peaked in the cool air of her apartment. Her eyes opened wide, a touch of fear, a question of temptation. I spun her to face the counter, and tugged at the short zipper, yanking the shirt down her hips. She stood before me with a skin-colored thong and nothing else.
“Mouse,” I hissed, running my hands over her firm ass. Her hands gripped the counter, knuckles white, and I worried this was too much. “Are you sure about this?” I nipped the shell of her ear, and she pressed back against me.
“Different but the same.” The statement sounded like a question. “Show me.”
I spun her back to face me. One hand cupped her jaw tugging her to me for a kiss. The other cupped between her legs, entering her swiftly with two fingers.
“Me,” I groaned against her mouth. “Only me.” I released her, gripped her hips and hitched her up to the counter. Spreading her knees, I bent to mine. Her eyes gleamed as she looked down at me.
“Only for me,” I hissed, and then blew air on that spot, the way I knew she loved
. She leaned back on her elbows, one leg slipping over my shoulder. My mouth covered her, lapping at tender folds and sucking her in. She purred, a sound I loved to hear and she only made when she was close and the release would be big. She screamed my name as I drew against her with my tongue, painting a picture of my desire with broad strokes over her puckered flesh. Sitting upright, she reached for my head. I picked her up and carried her to her couch.
“Different but the same,” I said, demanding she notice me. I removed my belt with a sharp snap, but she didn’t look up at me. Next came my coat, then my shirt over my head. She reached up for my belt loops, tugging me down to her. I loved her greedy. I loved her ready, as my fingers found her as I straddled over her.
“I love you,” I said, hoping she felt it in every touch of my fingers, every kiss from my lips. My mouth took hers again, pressing to her words I didn’t have. Apology. Love. Forever.
My pants were slipping down my hips, and I stood briefly to finish removing them. I tugged her upward, switching our positions. She straddled me, lining me up with her entrance. Anticipation built between us as she rode the tip a moment before falling over me, enveloping me in her warmth.
“Fuck,” I groaned. Twenty-four hours and I didn’t realize how much I’d missed her. We fit like two pieces of a puzzle, and I needed her. She fit my edges, and I soothed her curves. We were perfect—together. Overcome with emotion, I gripped her hips, holding her to me, as I thrust upward. I wanted to go deep, as deep as I could go, reaching her heart, hoping to fill her with my love.
“So close, baby,” I groaned, slipping my thumb to that spot, rushing her to get there again with me.
“So good,” she murmured over me, her hair tickling my face as she held my shoulders for balance. She rocked over me, taking me hard within her. I loved her like this.
“I love you wild,” I said. Her eyes focused on our joining.
“I love you,” she said, her voice hesitant, but I didn’t want to question her in the moment. Her eyes glistened, and my hands clutched her hips. Stopping would kill me, but I didn’t know what to do as a tear splashed down on my face. “Don’t stop,” she whispered. “Don’t ever stop.” My thrusts increased, penetrating harder. She rolled with it, matching each thrust. Together we came, and her mouth fell to mine, capturing my litany of profanity, praise for the orgasm that gripped me from all the ends of my body.