"Man, I hate doing this to a friend, but Briley thought this would be a great way to get past your communication barrier and commitment phobia."
Garen heard a slap, then Carter's mumbled cursing at the woman he loved before the resident computer genius and sometimes hacker returned to the line. “Sorry, apparently I'm not supposed to mention your phobia... Woman, smack me again and we'll end this here and now."
Letting out a long sigh, Garen leaned against the smooth brick wall, crossed his arms and tapped his foot on the bamboo floor. Patience he'd always had in spades until he'd got mixed up with these law-breaking idiots. To think he'd altered his schedule for these people. No one would miss him for at least twenty-four hours.
It took almost ten minutes for Carter to end his mock fight with Briley and refocus on the prisoners in the basement.
"Again, sorry about that, Briley has got to learn to stop with the slapping of my head. I'll end up brain dead before too long if she keeps this up,” Carter complained.
"Do you think I really care?” Would this nightmare ever end?
"Nah, I guess you don't. So anyhow here's the deal. Trinity, Olivia, Emma and Briley are convinced Recee loves you and you love her. The only problem is getting the two of you to admit it. Once you cross that hurdle you can live happily ever after, knives, freaky schedules and all."
A low growl built in his chest, but Garen manfully smothered it. Nothing would be gained from yelling at the brilliant, misguided genius holding him captive.
Letting out a slow, even breath, he focused on getting out. Then he could allow his temper free rein. “Carter, what the hell have those crazy women conned you into doing? You do know it's illegal to hold someone against his or her will. Jail time will not be pretty for a man of your looks and stature."
No fear or shocked gasps came over through. Carter sounded as calm and composed as he normally was. “Yeah, I thought of that when the girls brought the idea to me, but since I invited you over and you went down there of your own free will I figure I'm in the clear."
Never go up against a genius, Garen reminded himself, you'll always lose.
"So answer me this, how long does this farce go on? After a couple of weeks we're going to need more food and water.” Keep calm and rational, he repeated over and over again in his mind.
"I doubt we're talking weeks. You two just need enough alone time without other distractions to admit you love each other. Then we'll go for dinner. There's a great Thai place that opened up—"
"Carter.” Garen didn't want to hear future dinner plans. “I know you love her, but even you will admit that Briley is a few nuts short of a split."
"My doctor doesn't call it crazy. I'm reality challenged.” Briley spoke up for the first time since she'd whacked Carter's head.
"I'll—"
"Just hush it for a minute, big and bad. You need to know a few things if you really want a chance at Recee for longer than an hour or two.” Briley's voice cut him off, sounding more sober and serious than he'd ever heard.
Maybe this insanity was catching because he found himself agreeing. “Fine, tell me what I need to know."
Briley let out an aggrieved sigh. “Oh, how I wish I could, but alas my better half and the scary friend with tears of persuasion, Emma, has convinced me I have to let you find the info out on your own. The only thing you need to do is get Recee to talk about her parents and her little sister. If she opens up about either of those topics you're golden."
"I didn't know she had a sister."
"She doesn't...at least not anymore.” The tapping of feminine fingernails echoed in his ears. Garen could easily imagine the tall blonde sitting on Carter's desk, her light brown eyes narrowed in thought while her fingers restlessly drummed against the wooden surface. “Just talk to her, Garen. She can't run away. There's no place to hide down there and honestly Recee needs to stop running from the past if she ever hopes to have a future."
He'd left it at that. What could he say with a million questions running through his mind and the only source of answers lying unconscious across the room from him?
Recee'd had a little sister once upon a time. As protective and fierce as she was with her friends Garen could only imagine her behaviour to a little girl depending on her.
He crossed the basement in several long strides, then dropped down beside the bed. Recee slept on unaware of the love and treachery of her friends.
"Recee, baby, you need to wake the hell up. It seems we have more to talk about than either one of us knew."
He tipped his head back, finding the brick wall a hard pillow, but he'd slept in worse places. Getting into the soft warm bed with Recee would be worse torture than anything any terrorist could imagine. So he sat next to the bed, his hand stroking her curls while wondering what nightmares plagued the strongest woman he knew.
Something stroked her head in a soft, gentle manner. Recee never wanted that tender touch to end even though nightmares attempted to pursue her into the twilight of waking. She tried to open her eyes, but the overwhelming, unusual sense of peace had her hesitating. The callused, tender fingers brushed the hair off her temples.
"Come on, beautiful, open your eyes.” The voice...she knew it. Garen. A flash of his handsome face formed in her mind's eye. What was he doing in her house? Especially after the horrible way she'd treated him after the best sex of her life.
Somewhere in the back of her fuzzy brain Recee knew if she opened her eyes, acknowledged her return to consciousness, Garen would be gone. His touch, the comforting scent of his skin and most of all the sense of rightness just being near him gave her...she would lose it all if she left the dream world. So she'd keep her mouth and eyes shut, staying lost in the fantasy.
"Recee."
She heard her name coming from far away and tried to focus around the warning that screamed and raced through her mind. The flashes of her sister's face haunted her as did the last words she'd said to Recee.
"Recee."
Thoughts, impressions, hopes, dreams, desires and fears jumbled fast and furious through her brain as she sought something to hold onto. Anything that would stop the vortex of fear and panic swirling inside her, the nightmare of her parents hovering just over her shoulder, waiting for a single sign of weakness to overtake her.
"Recee, baby, please stop. My heart can't take this. Please stop crying,” Garen begged. His strong arms engulfed her securely. “Please, wake up and come back to me. I'll never ask you for anything again. I'll stop pushing for more. Just don't cry anymore. I can't handle your tears, baby. They're tearing me apart."
Tears? What the hell? Recee never cried, never. She was the bitch from hell. The one other bitches made offerings to. Why the hell would she cry?
The images from her nightmare slammed into her memory, forcing a cry to escape from her lips as her body shook in rejection. The last thing she needed was to be buried in her past any longer. With a shout of denial Recee pried her eyelids open.
"Garen,” she whispered, unable to believe he was sitting there at her side, holding her against his pounding chest.
"Oh God, Recee, I was so scared. You wouldn't wake up. Then you started crying and shouting. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't call for help.” He pressed his forehead to hers, his words coming out in an unsteady rhythm. “I've never felt so helpless in my life. Don't you ever do anything like that to me again."
Since Recee didn't have any idea what she'd done except possibly make an ass out of herself, she kept her mouth shut.
All too soon Garen moved but instead of releasing her like she'd expected, he positioned them both on their sides, so they lay looking at each other, pressed chest-to-chest, thigh-to-thigh.
"Are you okay to answer a few questions?” His gentle tone and the soft strokes to her back soothed her wayward emotions.
"I guess."
"You cried out ‘Joelle'. Who is that?"
Joelle. Oh God, she hadn't heard that name mentioned in years. Had forced hersel
f to put it away with the rest of her dysfunctional childhood memories. Why would he bring this...her...up now? Too many things didn't make sense and Recee felt like a piece of tissue paper ripped apart by a hurricane. No way to survive, no way to go back and no idea how to go forward.
As she opened her mouth to brush Garen off, the remnants of the nightmare crashed back into her weary mind. Joelle. She'd come back.
"My sister. Joelle was my little sister. She died when I was sixteen and she was thirteen. A stupid waste of an amazing soul. My sister was everything I'm not, kind, sweet, compassionate. Joelle had a way of making everyone love her. She wanted to please people, to make everyone around her happy. Thanks to my parents’ so-called love, my sweet, innocent thirteen-year-old sister starved herself to death trying to make them happy."
The shrieking in her head threatened to take her under again. Worse, it combined with the heavy guilt that consumed her slowly, piece by piece.
"Shit, Recee.” His arms squeezed her protectively. “I'm so sorry. I didn't know."
Unable to keep her eyes open while the images of the past flew through her mind, she tried to answer in a calm tone, but failed miserably. “No one but the girls know the truth. My father was a fashion photographer, my mother a top runway model. Nothing mattered to them, but the way people looked. If I gained so much as six ounces Daddy Dearest would lock me in my closet with two bottles of water. I'd get to come out once I promised to take the hideous disfiguring weight off. Joelle hated seeing me locked up. She'd sit by the door, try to cheer me up. Ever since I can remember she hated being in the dark. So imagine her nightmare coming to life when my father started in on her."
The memory had her eyes burning as she fisted Garen's thin T-shirt in her hands. The words almost choked her throat, but Recee forced them out, for her sister, with her lids shooting open, better to stare the nightmare down. “It took only one trip to the dark for Joelle to break. She came out a different person, no life or laughter left. She grew so terrified of being trapped in the dark again she refused to eat. When I forced the issue she'd eat enough to keep me happy, then sneak out and throw it all up. I tried to get my parents to take her to the hospital, to do something, but why should they? Joelle was thin, following their sick rules. They didn't care. That's what hurts the worst. Two of the most self-centred, vain creatures on the planet had no business having kids."
Garen's dark gaze stared at her, his eyes the colour of the richest cocoa beans with small crinkles edging those deep pools of midnight brown. “Oh baby, I'm so sorry. No kid should have to live like that. There was no one you could call or turn to?” Featherlight kisses trailed along her jaw line as he did his best to comfort her, his voice gentle.
"No one I knew of at the time. My grandmother Emmerson took me in after Joelle died. I never looked back. I never tried to contact those people who raised me. When they died in Paris, driving drunk or high no doubt, I told my grandmother I wouldn't go to the funerals. I wanted nothing more to do with them. Bless her, she didn't make me. She took care of everything, tucked their life insurance policy away and kept on living life."
"Thank God,” he muttered into her hair so low she almost missed hearing his words. “Thank God they're dead so I don't have to kill them."
Those sincere words broke the last barrier of her heart's barricade. Emotions long suppressed crashed through her. Love for her work, love for her friends, but most of all love for the amazing man holding her in his arms like he'd never let her go.
"Thank you,” she whispered and pressed a soft kiss to his throat.
"For what?” he asked, just as softly.
"For letting me kick, scream and generally make a fool of myself while I fell in love with you.” The confession freed her from the last restraints trapping her soul. She already felt lighter, more liberated than any other time in her life. Who knew confession really was good for the soul? Or maybe it had more to do with the man hearing her confession than the actual words themselves.
"What changed your mind?"
Recee focused on Garen's words. “You mean about telling you everything? My family, my sister or falling in love with you?"
"All of it."
"You and Joelle. Joelle because I dreamed of her right before I woke. She promised me she was happy and safe. The only thing holding her back from complete happiness was the fact that I couldn't let her go. Garen, she was my little sister. I was supposed to take care of her. Instead I let her down in the worst way imaginable. But Joelle, being Joelle, told me to get over it. That I had so many blessings in my life I should take the time to count those instead of wallowing in what I'd lost. So if I believe in the dream, which I kind of do, then in order for my sister to be happy I have to let her and my guilt go."
The past few minutes had gone better than she'd ever imagined. Garen took the news of her family to heart, something she'd never imagined someone other than her girls doing. She reeled from the turn of events that led her to where she now lay.
"Can you do it?"
Let go of the past, let go of the anger, distrust, and misery that tainted her every move? Putting it in perspective, Recee didn't think she was really letting go of anything, more like freeing herself from the shackles of the past.
As the silence expanded, Garen poked gently at her for answers. “Recee, can you let go of something you've held onto for so long?"
How did she explain something what now seemed so clear and right? “It's not letting Joelle go, Garen. It's letting everything I chained her memory down with. The anger, pity... none of those belonged to my sister. As of right now they don't belong anywhere in my life either."
His dark gaze captured hers and he leaned in for a kiss. His mouth pressed, soft and lush against hers, his tongue running along the seam of her lips.
How could she have ever thought there was any other emotion in the universe to compare to what she'd found in Garen's solid embrace?
"I do love you, Garen, with every twisted, sarcastic, plotting, knife-throwing piece of me."
"About damn time,” he muttered and took her mouth in a kiss of desperate possession. “Now I need you out of your clothes.” Garen grabbed the hem of her shirt and tugged it over her head.
"Wait.” Recee struggled to think as he undid the snap and zipper of her jeans. “Condoms,” she panted raggedly as his rough palms slid against the softness of her skin to push down her underwear and jeans.
She sat in front of him with only her bra. When she saw the glow of love in his eyes she tried to cover her body, a vaguely shy gesture...probably for the first time in her life. Lust she was used to but this emotion went far deeper.
His voice, jagged and low, halted her actions. “Don't, Recee. Give me this, at least. I'm...my control barely exists here. Let me look at you, all of you. There's nothing about you or your body that I don't already love.” He reached behind her and before she knew it the silk covering fell tumbling to her feet. “God, I love you so much!"
The words were a balm to her shredded soul and filled her with incredible happiness and joy. Garen Swifthorse loved her, her past had been laid to rest and her sister was at peace. “Can it get any better than this?"
"I sure as hell hope so."
With a surety born of love, they explored each other's bodies, roaming the different planes and textures with greedy fingers and sensitive tongues. His clothes vanished like magic beneath their eager hands leaving only heated skin pressed to heated skin.
"You look so sweet with your nipples puckered tight. I bet you taste even sweeter.” He licked his lips as his hands fisted in the sheets at his side.
"Oh...wow...” Recee nervously licked her lips.
His jaw clenched as his eyes followed her every move. He shot her a half smile with his wicked eyes speaking of naughty intentions and erotic deeds. “Don't worry, baby, I've got our protection covered. There's a whole box here for our pleasure. It may be enough to last the night. If not I've got a few ideas we can try until we get more."
>
"Good, that's good.” She licked her dry lips as she drowned in the desire reflected in his dark eyes.
He took her lips in a deep kiss of possession. “Now that we've covered all that, I need you flat on your back with your legs spread wide or else I'm going to lose my damn mind."
What else could a woman say to that? “Okay."
Within seconds he suited actions to words as he laid her down on the feather-soft mattress. She lifted her head and slowly kissed his lips.
His response was immediate. His rock-hard erection throbbed heavily against her. They both gasped at the erotic contact. The next thing she knew, she was against his hard body, his palm cupping the back of her head as his mouth took her over and over again. Their tongues tangled and duelled as Recee grew drugged on his flavour. Her heart raced while the rest of her body went up in needy flames of desire.
She couldn't stop the whimper from rising in her throat, but Garen caught the sound in his mouth as he rolled her beneath him, using his arms to keep from crushing her.
Recee's legs rose so her thighs were cradling his hips. Her pussy contracted and a trickle of moisture slid between her thighs at the feel of his firm, hot flesh.
A look of primal hunger fell over his passion-darkened eyes before his mouth locked against hers in a voracious and devouring kiss. She couldn't get enough of him, his scent, his unique flavour. Everything that made Garen had her hungry for more.
He was as wild as she as they attacked each other again and again. His hands slid beneath her naked back pushing her flesh hard against his own. The feeling melted her beneath him.
Her touch affected him the same way his did her. His grip tightened as he raised his head to let out a hiss of breath.
They panted for air, staring shocked into each other's eyes. Then with a slow downward slide of hard flesh he lowered his head to her breasts.
Romancing Recee Page 9