by Beth Yarnall
“Yes, but I’m afraid to believe it.”
“I can’t make you any promises. I don’t know what’s going to happen. But I’m here now and I’m trying.”
“I guess that’s all I can ask. It’s certainly more than I’ve ever hoped for.” More than I deserve.
We fall quiet. The only noise is from the traffic around us. He shifts the car into gear and pulls back out into traffic. We don’t speak the whole way to his friend’s house. I wait in the car while he grabs the key to the RV and his friend opens the gate. Nolan drives the car inside and his friend closes it behind us. When I climb out, Nolan makes the introductions. His friend’s name is Fred and if I think I’m awkward in social situations, Fred makes me look like an extrovert.
Fred closes the gate, sealing us away from the road, and goes back in the house mumbling something about leaving some food and beer in the RV for us. Nolan grabs a couple of bags out of the trunk of his car. Mine is slung over my shoulder. I wait for him near the door of the RV. Things are supposed to be settled with us, but it feels weird that Nolan knows my secret. He’s the only person in the whole world. I want to tell him that fact, but I don’t want to bring it up and rehash everything all over again.
Instead I hold my hand out to him and try to pretend we’re a normal couple hiding out from a corrupt DA in an RV in the backyard of a friend. Nothing unusual going on here. He catches my hand in his and opens the door for me to go inside. It’s very RV-ish with lots of brown splashed here and there with orange and red. It might be unattractive, but it’s clean. Not that I have room to complain. Most of all it’s safe. At least I hope so.
Nolan closes the door behind him and sets one of his bags down on the table. He pulls a cell phone out and punches in a number.
“Burner phone,” he tells me as he waits for the other person to pick up. “Sorry to bother you so late, Mr. Nash. I need to talk to you about the case I’m working on for the Freedom Project.”
He lays it all out for Mr. Nash, leaving out the part about how we’re hiding out in his friend’s RV. The fact that we’re sleeping together is probably something he wouldn’t want his boss to know either. After a lot of back and forth, Nolan hangs up and turns to me.
“He’s going to call his contact and get back to me.” He opens the mini fridge. “Are you hungry? I’m starved. Looks like Fred left us some sandwich makings.” He starts pulling everything out and sets it on the table, moving his bags to the floor.
He hands me a beer and I watch in silence while he makes us a couple of sandwiches. Everything we’ve been through tonight hits me all at once. I take a long pull off my beer, trying not to freak out. When I took this case I thought I might get the opportunity to change Carla’s life, but my life’s changed in ways I never could’ve imagined. The man in front of me is a huge part of that change. I’ve shared more with him than with anyone else in my life. That’s no small thing.
I’m grateful to him and for him in ways I can’t quite express. He settles the mad rush of emotions that I can’t control on my own. At the same time he makes me feel things I’ve never felt before. He’s sexy as hell. I want him every time I look at him. Like now. The way the muscles on his forearms flex reminds me of when he holds himself above me while thrusting deep. I cross my legs under the table, trying to curb my reaction to those thoughts. That’s the one part of our relationship or whatever it is we have going on that comes easy. There’s no thinking at all when he touches me. Only action and reaction.
I need that most from him—to not think, to not let the thoughts take over. He gives me something else I need, but don’t feel like I deserve—quiet acceptance. I know he’s struggling with my issues, but he does it without judgment. He’s extraordinary in that way and a lot of other ways. I don’t know what he sees in me that makes it all worthwhile for him or what makes him want me warts and all.
I make a vow to him and to myself to look into getting help as soon as we wrap up this case. I want to discover the part of me that only he sees. I have a feeling I buried it along with all of the things in my apartment. It won’t be easy. Just thinking about throwing anything away makes my palms sweat and my pulse race. I don’t have any idea how I’m going to do it, but I want to try. That has to count for something, right?
He slides a plated sandwich my way and takes a seat across from me. “You okay? You’re kind of quiet.”
“Just thinking.”
“About?”
“A lot of things.” I pause. “Mostly about how soon I can get you naked.”
He sputters his beer and wipes his mouth with a napkin. “The answer is as soon as we finish eating.”
“What did Mr. Nash say when you told him about Billits?” I ask, needing to change the subject.
“He was shocked at first. Then pissed that Billits could be running a prostitution ring right under the noses of the state attorney general and the FBI. I figure we’ll tell him about our suspicions that Billits might be Diego’s father and if he is then he had sex with Carla when she was underage. She’s probably not the first or the last. Guys like Billits usually have more than one victim.”
“I wonder how many other children he may have fathered. If Carla confirms paternity they may have to exhume Diego to compare his DNA to Billits. That will be the smoking gun.” An awful thought suddenly occurs to me. “Do you think Carla’s safe? If Billits is onto us then he has to know who we’re helping.”
“I don’t know. When Mr. Nash calls me back I’ll ask him. Maybe the FBI can set something up for her. Some sort of protection on the inside.”
“I hope she’s okay. What if something happens to her?”
“It’s not like the movies and TV. It’s not as easy to get to a prisoner. There are cameras and security everywhere.”
“I hope you’re right.”
He puts his hand over mine. “It won’t be long now before Billits gets what’s coming to him and Carla is freed.”
“And we stop working together.”
He threads his fingers through mine. “Yeah, that too.”
“We won’t spend as much time together.”
“No.”
“I’m going to miss that.”
“Me too.”
“Maybe we’ll work together on a new case.”
“Maybe.”
I rise from the bench and go to him. He shifts so that I can step between his parted legs. I put my hands on his shoulders and look down at him. His hands go to my waist, his eyes full of all of the things he wants me to do to me. I lean down for a kiss. Instead of coming at him like a starved, crazed animal as I usually do, I take it slow with gentle, coaxing kisses. He responds by running his hands up my back and drawing me closer. I melt into the ease of being with him. He’s all I can see, hear, touch, taste, and smell. He’s all I want filling up my senses.
He stands slowing, melding his body to mine. The feel of him up against me and around me always shocks me with how damn good it is. It’s like his body was made to fit mine. We connect at every important point in a way that is at once overwhelming and intoxicating. When we’re like this I wonder why we’re ever apart. I know it will feel even better skin-to-skin. The memory makes me want to rush to get to that part like I would normally do, but I force myself to go slow, to enjoy this moment, this kiss.
A growl rumbles from his throat and vibrates through every part of me. He takes his time, kissing me thoroughly, leaving me panting and clinging to him. This is what I missed all of those other times in my hurry to get to the good stuff—the anticipation, the leisurely build up. I let him control the pace. He’s good at the slow stuff. He doesn’t go for the cheap grope, touching me in a way that’s both intimate and chaste. It’s a slow burn and I’m dying to be consumed.
We peel each other’s clothes away a piece at a time with long intervals in between. That feel of his bare chest against mine makes me tremble. It feels like this is our first time, which is silly because we’ve already done all manner of things to each ot
her. I’m learning his body in new, unexpected ways with my hands and my mouth. A shudder goes through him and his fingers flex into my flesh when I lick a sensitive spot just below his ear. So many new discoveries.
We topple onto the bed at the back of the RV, our limbs tangled together. Touches become more desperate and demanding. I’m going to die if I don’t get him inside of me soon. I tell him that and he chuckles darkly as he dips his head to take my nipple in his mouth. I can’t stop telling him how I feel and what I want him to do to me. The words just pour out, becoming dirtier and dirtier. I’m shocked at myself.
Nolan makes a deep, throaty noise at the back of his throat and looks up at me from between my legs. “You’re making me crazy here, woman.”
“Your mouth should be a registered weapon.” I widen my legs, inviting him to finish what he’s started. “You’re killing me.”
“I’ve barely gotten started.” The end of his sentence is a rumble on my over sensitized flesh.
He’s good at a lot of things, but he’s a fucking master at oral. By the time he lets me come legs are shaking and I’m begging him for release. My orgasm slams into me sideways and a scream rips from my throat. He kisses his way up my body and opens his mouth over mine in an intense, soul-surrendering kiss. I’m his. I’m owned and he lets me know it as he eases inside me, his mouth fused to mine. He rocks into me as though he has all day. Lifting my leg, he changes the angle and hits deep.
I cling to him, wrapping around him. I need something from him, but I don’t know what. Everything he’s doing isn’t enough and yet it’s too much. Our bodies become slick with sweat and still he thrusts in and out slowly as though he’s memorizing every inch of me. I bow under him, craving something that doesn’t have a name, chasing it as though my life depended on it. Digging my fingers into his flesh, I throw my head back. He hooks his arms under my legs, forcing them up, driving even deeper into me.
I’m crazed now. My screams echo off the walls and mingle with his grunts and the slap of flesh on flesh. I come on a hoarse cry. Burrowing his face in my neck, he follows, pressing me down hard into the thin mattress. My heartbeat is a throb through my whole body. Running my hands everywhere I can reach, I can’t stop caressing him. He moves his head and finds my mouth. Something’s changed between us. I can’t put my finger on exactly what, but it’s a subtle shift, hardly noticeable except that the ground is more even and I can breathe a little easier. Does he feel it too? I don’t dare ask. Maybe I’m making more of it than I should. It could just be my imagination.
He leans up on his elbows and looks down at me. His gaze traces the lines of my face like a touch. I try not to squirm under his scrutiny and smile up at him. He smiles back. We stare at each other for a long minute. He looks different to me somehow. More attractive maybe or more familiar. I don’t know. I feel like I know more about him than any other man I’ve ever been with. That’s a strange thought to have and not at all appropriate with him naked on top of me and still inside me.
He lifts a lock of hair from the corner of my eye with a finger. “You’re really beautiful.”
I find that hard to believe with my makeup all sweated off and my hair a rat’s next under my head, but I can tell he means it. Knowing that turns my insides all melty and liquid. I’m practically a puddle beneath him. I can only stare up at him doe-eyed and a little awe-struck. He makes me feel things I’ve never felt before. Mostly he makes me want things I never believed I could have.
He shifts to pull out of me and stills. “Shit. No condom.”
“Oh.” I look down between us. “That’s okay. I’m on birth control.”
“I’m clean. Just got tested a few months ago.”
“Me too. I’m all good.”
He flashes me that quick luminescent smile. “Thank god cause that was amazing.”
“It really was.”
“So are we going without from now on?”
“We can. I want to. I mean, we’re exclusive, right? So it should be okay.”
“More than okay.”
“All right then.”
He rolls off me and gathers me against him. We lay in silence for a while. An odd emotion has lodged itself under my ribcage. I want to give it a name, but I’m afraid. It feels like happiness. I’ve learned the hard way that it doesn’t last. So I ignore it and snuggle deeper against Nolan’s warm, hard body. I’ll stick to the physical. The emotional is too fraught with changes and disappointment. I drift off to sleep, not at all confident that I can maintain that distance.
23
Nolan
I don’t know what’s come over Lila. She seems—I don’t know—calmer somehow. We’re in the middle of all of this chaos, but she’s gone strangely Zen on me. I don’t know if I should be wary or glad. I’m kind of a strange combination of both. She settles in the bed next to me with a content sigh like we didn’t just out run the bad guys and are hiding from them. Like we’re not going to talk to the FBI about a possibly corrupt DA and she didn’t just reveal her biggest, darkest secret to me. Like we didn’t just have earth shattering, life-altering sex, deeply committed sex.
Maybe this is the calm before the storm.
I wish I could crack her head open and peer inside to find out what she’s thinking and get a glimpse of how her mind really works. Just when I think I’ve got her figured out she throws me a curve. She didn’t come at me like she usually does when she wants sex. She let me have the lead and set the pace. That’s new. Maybe she finally accepted the fact that we have something here that demands our attention. She can’t keep ignoring it or pretending it’s only about sex.
She shifts closer to me, her body growing heavy. This too is new. We’ve never lain together like this before. Our post sex routine has always been about her re-establishing boundaries and putting space between us. She’s definitely not doing that now. Her breathing grows even and steady. She’s falling asleep. Next to me. In a bed. Must be exhaustion. It’s been a bitch of a day. I can’t pay too much attention to what’s happening. It’s likely a one off and the build up of everything we’ve been through. It doesn’t mean anything, I tell myself. Don’t read too much into it just enjoy it for however long it lasts.
And then there’s the condom thing. I nearly blew it there. Her behavior shocked me so much that common sense totally left my head and all I could think about was how to keep things going exactly the way they were. She didn’t freak out the way I thought she might. Thank god she’s on birth control. My screw up could’ve been a total fuck up. I can’t predict how she’d react if she got pregnant, what she’d decide or what would happen to us. We need to take this very, very slowly. Any jumps ahead could scare her away permanently.
If we’re going to end I’d rather it not be over an unplanned pregnancy or other scare—something I could’ve prevented.
When I’m sure she’s asleep I let myself drift off. It occurs to me just before all conscious thought stops that I’m falling for her and that might be my biggest fuck up yet.
The ringing of a cell phone jolts me awake. I don’t recognize the ring and then I remember that Mr. Nash was supposed to call on the burner phone. Lila shifts in my arms. Her warm naked body wakes up other parts of my anatomy. I want to forget the phone call and roll her over onto her stomach and enter her from behind. Unfortunately that’s not going to happen.
Sitting up, she flips her hair out of her face and squints down at me like she can’t quite believe I’m there. She glances around the cramped space of the RV. I can see the moment her memory clicks everything into place for her. She yawns and stretches, her breasts lifting invitingly. I ignore the siren call of her body and flip back the covers to get out of bed.
I answer the phone call on what has to be the last ring. “Hello?”
“Nolan.” It’s Mr. Nash. “I have some news.”
“Yeah?” I stifle a yawn and turn to watch Lila climb out of bed. Damn she’s gorgeous.
“Carla Ruiz was found hanging in her cell.”
His words jolt me fully awake. “What? When?”
“Last night. She’s in ICU. It doesn’t look good. They were able to bring back her heartbeat, but they don’t know how long her brain was deprived of oxygen.”
“Jesus. How did that happen?”
Lila comes to my side and looks up at me with a concerned frown. “What happened?”
I hold up a finger for her to wait so I can hear what Mr. Nash is saying.
“Suicide attempt,” he says.
“No. That can’t be. There’s no way.”
“Tore a strip of her bed sheet and fashioned a noose. They only found her when they did because the woman in the next cell from hers had the flu and was throwing up. Her yelling for a guard is what alerted them. When they walked past Carla’s cell that’s when they saw her. They cut her down right away and started CPR. Her cellmate claimed she was asleep and didn’t hear anything.”
“You don’t believe that?”
“Do you? The other end of the sheet was tied to the top bunk. Someone’s kicking and flailing and hitting your bed and you don’t wake up? No. I don’t buy it.”
“You think her cellmate might’ve had something to do with it?”
Lila grabs onto my arm and goes to her toes to get my attention. “Is it about Carla?”
I nod.
“What happened?” she demands.
“She’s in ICU. They think she tried to commit suicide.”
She shakes her head. “No. No way. There’s no way she’d do that.”
“Her cellmate’s been questioned and released back to her cell,” Mr. Nash says. “There’s nothing to prove she was involved. All the same the prison officials aren’t convinced.”