He rested his elbows on the countertop. His dark eyes bored into her. She refused to shiver. “Say please.”
Whether he remembered or not, he’d said those words to her another time. With a long blade to her throat and his genitals at her entrance, he’d made the same request. She’d refused that time, which had pissed him off. The bruised and bloody had healed. So had her mental wounds. Or so she’d thought. His innocent act crumbled as he smiled.
Tears burned behind her eyes. She blinked and flexed her resolve. “Please.”
His smile came slow, calculated. “That wasn’t so hard, now, was it?”
She didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer. The woman she’d become shattered into the tender, naïve teenager she’d once been. The world around her, the walls she’d erected crumbled under his subtle attack.
“I just gotta sign the form?”
“And have it—” The wobble in her voice mortified her and humored him. She cleared her throat. “It has to be notarized.”
“I think the notary comes tomorrow.” He shrugged. “I’ll have them put it in the mail.” He pushed back from the table. “I’ll be sure to add you to my Christmas card list.” And then he hung up and stood, turning his back on her.
She didn’t know how, but somehow, his final blow didn’t immediately bring her house down. But as the large metal door removed him from her presence, she lost it. Sobs rose from her toes. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Her heart raced and halted in a violent sequence. She gasped, unable to get enough air into her lungs.
Strong arms came around her, encasing her in a four-alarm-freak-out. She screamed and pushed at the big body. Striking out. Beating at the wide chest.
“Shayne!”
Gigantic hands tugged at her fingers, unfolding them from the phone she hadn’t realized she still held.
“Shayne!” X’s face appeared in front of hers. Palms clamped onto her cheeks. His face got closer. “Shayne. You okay?”
Her head rose slowly, her chin dropped in a sluggish nod. He took her hand in his. “Come on, baby sister, let’s get you home to your boys.”
She graced him with another gradual head bob. She wanted to be strong, wanted to jump up and cartwheel out of the prison.
She’d gotten her way. Alex would sign the papers. But all she could do was relive that night over and over. She hadn’t had nightmares in years. They’d be back. She guessed so did he, and that’s why he’d acquiesced.
Getting in the rental car, every emotion she had either ravaged her or crawled into the closet X kept talking about. She’d really like to lock the frickin’ thing up and throw away the key.
X didn’t say a word, just started the car and began to drive. After putting miles between them and her personal Freddie Krueger, he coughed. “You wanna tell me what happened back there?”
“Couldn’t you hear the conversation?” She’d assumed he could.
“Only your side.”
She did the best she could at the recap, but each word of her play-by-play put her on the ledge again. The same overwhelming need to run away had her putting her hand on the door.
X hit the locks. “You can’t outrun this.”
“I know.” She watched the scenery pass, lots of concrete and asphalt with buildings growing out of it. “At the end,” her voice broke, “he said he’d send a Christmas card.”
“Ah, hell, Shayne.” He scrubbed his face. “Tell me you didn’t put your address on there anywhere.”
“No. It’ll go to Megan’s office.”
“In Kingman?”
She nodded, feeling the slightest flash of comfort. “And I didn’t put Santiago on anything.”
“Good.” He went quiet for the rest of the ride to the airport. As he pulled into the rental car return, he shifted toward her. “Are you sure you’re okay to go home?”
“Yeah.” She thought of the two loves of her life—Her son with his awkward, preteen body and sarcastic way, and her husband with his tender smile and quiet strength—and she could breathe again.
***
Shayne looked forward to getting home. Behind the wheel of her car, she barely registered the journey from Point A to Point B. Her mind whirled. One thought crashed over the next. Memories dominated reality.
She probably should have, but she hadn’t anticipated the tailspin seeing Alex would throw her into. Naïve? Definitely. But she truly thought she’d gotten over what had happened to her. She had a wonderful life, found someone who loved her. Unconditionally.
Pulling into the long, paved driveway, Shayne slowed and hit the garage door opener. The door rolled heavenward. Ricky’s huge SUV took up half the garage. She smiled. To her, he was larger than life, bigger than big. His body, his personality, his mode of transportation, and his…love.
She eased her smaller SUV next to his and cut the engine. As perfect as her life seemed on the outside, Shayne spun out of control. The only thing she knew for sure was how much she loved her men. They were her lifeline, her rock, her gravity. Her everything.
When the light overhead turned off, plunging the garage into darkness, Shayne vowed she’d never lie to them again. Not even white lies. Or ones to keep Christmas a secret. She owed them that much.
She grabbed her things, opened the door of her car. Her heels clip-clopped on the painted floor. She turned the knob and hit the big button to close the garage door.
Inside, the dark kitchen and boisterous commentary greeted her. She sat her purse and keys on the kitchen counter, kicking her shoes off to continue into the family room on bare feet.
“That ref needs glasses!” Matt bounced on the couch cushion.
Ricky, stretched out in his recliner, had his arm behind his head. His bicep bulged against the sleeve of his t-shirt. He focused on the television, grunting an approval as the player missed a free-throw. “At least he made it up by missing… Hey, mujer bonita.” He sat up a bit and slid over as if he made room for her to sit beside him. “How long you been home?”
“Just long enough to hear the refs aren’t very good.” She smiled.
Matt didn’t take his gaze from the TV. “They suck, Mom. Even Uncle X could do better.”
As Shayne laughed, Ricky nodded. “Thanks for not sayin’ me, my man.”
Their son grinned. “Any time.”
She tipped her head toward the bedroom. “I’m gonna go in and change my clothes.”
Ricky jogged his brows. “Need some help?”
Matt snorted and used a great deal of exaggeration to roll his eyes.
She didn’t answer, didn’t have to. Ricky knew she never really needed his help. She always welcomed it. His chair snapped closed. She went into the bedroom and leaving the door wide. She fiddled with the buckle on her belt. The door closed with an almost silent clunk and then a soft click locked it. Her slacks slid down her legs. She walked out of them, leaving a pile on the floor. Ricky growled low.
His huge hands encased her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh. He kissed the side of her neck. “How’d everything go today?”
“Fine.”
He sucked on the muscle in her neck. Her knees weakened. His arms went around her middle, clutching her back to his front. “What happened?”
His tongue teased. His breath tempted. Her thoughts disappeared. Her eyes closed. She swayed. He held her close with one hand while the other lifted the hem of her tank top. He pushed it up and covered her abdomen with his palm.
“What happened today?”
“Hmm?”
He stepped away so fast she stumbled. He took her arm to both steady and turn her. His grin said what he didn’t. He loved the effect he had on her. That made two of them.
“What’s next?”
She whipped off her tank top. His eyes dropped to her chest. “The forms just have to be notarized.”
Hunger burned in his dark eyes as he watched her reach behind for her bra. “When will that be?”
“Tomorrow.” She released the hook and let her bra fall
to the floor.
He licked his lips. “Then what?”
She cupped her breasts in her hands and could have sworn he stopped breathing. “Then they’ll be filed with the court.”
“How long—” He groaned and ran a hand through his hair when she peeled off her panties. “How long…does that take?”
She shrugged. “Not sure.” She turned her back on him and sauntered to the shower, flipping it on.
When he stepped up behind her again, he pressed a whole lot of naked against her backside. He reached around her and turned the water off. He scooped her into his arms. Sitting down on the edge of the enormous garden tub, he leaned forward, pressed the plug down and turned on the water. He added a squirt of bubble bath, going with the lavender instead of the vanilla.
“My girl’s had a hard day.” He checked the water temperature. “I intend to pamper every inch of her.”
He put her on her feet, stepped into the rising water and helped her over the side. He dropped to his knees. She went to sit and he shook his head. He reached for the loofa and filled it with body wash, working it between his palms until fluffy white bubbles fell in clumps. He tapped her foot. She lifted her leg. He supported her calf in his hand. After thoroughly cleaning her right foot, he lowered it into the water and took her left one.
He scooted toward her, turned off the water, then rubbed the loofa over her leg, circling it around her knee before working up the outside of her thigh to her hip. He kissed just below her belly button, a gentle sweep of his mouth quickly followed by the scratching loofa.
After her other leg received his attentive scrubbing, he grabbed her by the hips and with gentle pressure summoned her down. She sank down into the water. He sat back, stretching his legs out. Oh man, he looked so sexy.
He’d told her his intention, but she had a few intentions, too. She leaned forward, did a little stretching of her own. He groaned. His eyes drifted closed. She rubbed her pelvis against his growing interest. He groaned again, cupped her ass and held her tight.
On the emotional scale, today had topped out at an eleven—and a half. She needed the kind of comfort she could only receive by communing with the one man who’d made love to her. She reached between them and sighed at his entry. He let her take control, allowed her to set the pace. Slow. Water lapped at her butt, sloshing at the sides of the tub. She rested against his chest, absorbing as much of him into herself as she could. His arms swathed her to him, comforting her.
She found completion in a wonderfully gentle, sinfully sweet wave. Not long after, Ricky stiffened. His arms tightened. His breath hitched, held and released in a soft rush over her brow. She laid her head on his shoulder. His strength seeped into her, recharging her. She closed her eyes. His fingers ran over her back, shoulder blades to buttocks. His touch was neither hard nor gentle. It just was; soothing, easing, succoring.
Serenity, unlike she’d ever experienced before, covered her like a warm blanket, calming her from the inside. Her body relaxed, became heavy. Her eyelids refused to open. With each breath, she drifted further into peace.
23
Ricky knew the moment she’d fallen asleep. When she’d come through the door just a little bit ago, the look on her face comforted him. No doubt his beautiful wife fought exhaustion. She appeared to be dead on her feet. But her soft smile finally shone the adoration that’d been missing for too long.
He’d followed her into the bathroom with every intention of seducing her, but as she’d taken control, he’d recognized her desire for slow instead of fevered. He gladly gave whatever she required.
He cuddled her close and wished they could simply sleep in the tub. He was certainly comfortable enough. Except for the water, which at the moment lingered just south of luke warm.
Well, hell. Getting out without waking her would take skill. Like superhero kinda skill.
He tightened his hold on her, crushing her to his chest, leaned forward. He bent his knees and flattened the bottom of his feet on the bottom of the tub, pressing their bodies upward.
The task wasn’t easy, not because of her weight, but the awkward angles. And that she was out-cold, dead-to-the-world. The water would wait until morning. Goosebumps covered her damp skin. He kissed a few before grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his wife. Thankfully most of her hair remained dry.
He peeled back the sheets and slid her onto the mattress. She sighed softly, her body undulating the relief she didn’t speak.
Just call him Superman!
He wrapped the towel around his waist. With his wife safely tucked away in their bed, he needed to check on his son.
He flipped the lock and stepped into their dark home. The television no longer showed basketball. He went down the hall and a sliver of light glowed from under Matt’s door. He rapped his knuckles on the jamb.
“Yeah?” came the reply.
Ricky opened the door. Matt sat propped against the headboard in his bed. He set the book in his lap upside down to keep his page. “She okay?”
“Yeah, she’s asleep.”
“I’m glad.” Matt smoothed his hand over the hardcover. “I’m not sure how she made it home without falling asleep.”
“She should sleep good tonight.” Ricky pointed at the book. “You like it?”
One shoulder lifted. One side of his mouth dropped. “Not really. Assigned reading, ya know. It’s never as good as when you get to pick it yourself. But it’s better than the one last semester.”
Ricky wasn’t a reader. Never had been. That didn’t mean he didn’t understand, though. Nine times outta ten, no matter what the it was, it didn’t measure up if somebody else did the pick and choose.
“Night, bud.”
Matt picked up his book. “Night.”
The kid had not only moved into Ricky’s guest room, making it his own, he’d moved in and set up camp in his heart. His son. He wanted to hug him, give him a high-five or something. Given that he wore only a towel, definitely not a good idea. Yet standing there in the doorway, he couldn’t bring himself to close the door on the opportunity.
He cleared his throat. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Matt raised his head from his book, his brows pinched. “Um…I’m glad to be here, too.”
All the rah-rah fizzled. He shook his head. “No, that didn’t come out right.”
“So you’re not glad I’m here.”
“No, no, I—” Matt’s chuckle stopped his defense. “I just want you to know that I…I’m really glad you’re here in my life.”
Matt grinned. “I’m really glad to be here.”
Always with the sarcasm. Instead of feeling all warm and gushy inside, Ricky fought the urge to cuff his son upside the head.
“I love you, too, Dad.”
Emotion unlike anything he’d ever experienced before engulfed him. Tears stung his eyes. He blinked. His throat thickened. He swallowed. He cleared his throat. Twice. “I, ah, I do love you, Matt.”
“I know. Now get outta here. I’ve gotta finish this crappy book by Friday.”
Ricky had no problem leaving that time. He closed the door and headed for the kitchen to grab a glass of water. Not a big deal. Cupboard. Glass. Water. Drink. Sink.
Final stop: the bedroom.
Shayne hadn’t moved since he’d left. Still on her back, her arms at her sides. He dropped the towel and slid in next to her. Despite his efforts to do so without disturbing her, she seemed drawn to him. It started with an outstretched arm brushing his thigh. Next came an audible breath, followed by her rolling onto her side and inching toward him.
He had no doubt she remained in dreamland, which made the transition that much sweeter. She sought him. Subconsciously she pursued him. And he was damn easy to catch. In fact, he would make it easier for her.
Lying down, he put his arm under her neck and drew her into him. Like she did every night, her head came to rest on his shoulder. Her arm draped over his abdomen. Her leg curved over his leg. He curled his forearm around
her thin body. Every night, for the rest of eternity, he planned to sleep just like this.
Smile firmly in place, he closed his eyes and let his body drift into oblivion.
***
Panic jolted him into awareness. He sat straight up in the bed. His eyes scanning for the danger threatening his family. Nothing.
Shayne screamed. She thrashed. Her legs sawed under the sheets, twisting them around her lower body. Her hands formed fists. Her head jerked back and forth. Inaudible grunts accompanied her fitful movements. Another scream ripped from her throat and peeled his skin off.
She sat up, tearing the sheets away from her legs. She slipped from the bed to land in a heap on the floor. She scuttled backward until her back hit the wall.
He turned on the lamp and followed her. “Shayne.”
More violent head shaking.
He touched her shoulder and her fist met his cheek. Impressive. As the starbursts cleared, he captured her flailing arms, shaking her gently. “Shayne.”
She panted. Her hand flashed out for another jab. He caught her wrist, holding on tight. He put his face right in front of hers. She didn’t register. The lights were on, but Shayne was definitely not at home.
He’d never hit a woman before. Desperate times and all that. His flat palm to her cheek didn’t faze her. He took her by the shoulders and shook her. “Shayne!”
She pushed against his chest, kicking out with her foot, narrowly missing his family jewels. He let her go. A kick to the nads wasn’t necessary unless she was going to hurt herself. She climbed back into the bed, pressing her back against the headboard, clutching a pillow to her chest.
“Mom!” was followed up by Matt racing into the room. “What’s wrong?”
“Nightmare.” Ricky put his hands on his hips and watched his wife cower against the headboard. He really should care his bare ass was waving in the wind, but all he could think about was Shayne. “Her eyes are open, but she’s definitely not awake.”
Matt nodded and without another word ran into the bathroom. He came back with a glass of water. And doused her.
Lucky 13 (Deadlines & Diamonds) Page 20