by Dee Tenorio
In her life, exploitation was all she knew to expect. From her mother to her former friends, right up to her ex-husband. There had only been one person she’d ever tried believing in and the price of that trust had been catastrophic. She’d vowed not to take that kind of chance again…but then came him.
Locke stopped stroking, now turning her palm up so he could lace their fingers together. He stared at their joined hands as if concentration alone would keep them together. “You could hurt me too, Suze.”
No, she already had. Deeply. And she would keep hurting him, without wanting to. But what good would apologies be, when she would just do it again and again and again? She knew too well, apologies like that weren’t worth shit.
He looked up, all the intensity of him—intensity she’d felt in his arms, had willingly drowned in and craved ever since—fixed on her. Only Locke could offer everything of himself in just a look. Words just weren’t his thing, but oh…the man could stare entire conversations. Then, probably just because it would kill her, he spoke, low and husky as a whisper could go. “I’m willing to take the risk.”
Would he? When she told him the truth? When he knew the secrets she’d purposefully kept from him? When she told him why she could never give him in return what he offered so freely?
Yes, she realized, looking into the calm depths of his gaze. He would still risk everything on her.
Somehow, that made it so much worse.
She swallowed, but the lump in her throat refused to budge. There wouldn’t be any budging him either, but she had to try. “You need to find yourself another girl, Jackman. One who doesn’t make you miserable.”
“Why would I do that when I like the one I’ve got just fine?”
Her harsh spurt of laughter caught her by complete surprise, along with a wave of relief she didn’t want to analyze. She was too tired to analyze anymore tonight. “Why do I find your bullshit so charming?”
“Not sure, but I’d be a damn fool if I didn’t make use of it.” To her shock, he disentangled their hands and put hers back over her spoon. “How about this? We’ll eat. We don’t have to talk. Just eat. After that, you can throw me out if you want to and I’ll go without a word.”
She narrowed an eye at him. “If I want to?”
Only a man who’d spent his entire life being stoic as stone could have looked at her so evenly and said, “I’ll even keep the bullshit to a minimum, so you won’t be tempted to keep me.”
She just barely held the smile in before she finally turned to the food and ate.
So far, so good…
Locke silently measured the improvement in Susie’s color with each spoonful of the rice-chicken soup. Blooming pink now, after two steaming bowls. The kids had all liked this soup when they were sick, and the best part was that it pretty much had to be made in bulk, so there was plenty for her to reheat later. Watching her sop up the remnants with the garlic bread just made him feel better about pushing his way into her space. She might be the most independent person he ever met but damn if the woman didn’t need a keeper.
Her fridge had been in serious need of a hazmat investigation. If she’d slept another hour, he wouldn’t have been able to keep himself from calling Jimmy’s Grocery and getting them to do a delivery for him. All she seemed to have was instant oatmeal, salad fixings and watermelon. How the hell was she living on that? But if a man wanted to keep his balls, he didn’t ask questions like that of Susie Packard. Which was why Locke generally preferred not to bother with the inconvenience of unimportant questions. Still, he had to tread carefully. This was the closest she’d allowed him in months and he couldn’t afford to blow it.
“You’re thinking again,” she murmured, those gorgeous eyes of hers looking sleepy and sexy and almost too tempting to ignore. Would she let him put her to bed before she melted right there at the table? Or should he wait until she finally fell asleep? Then he’d get the bonus of carrying her. Maybe even another of those sighs with his name in it…
“I’m always thinking.”
“You’re thinking about me,” she added, a small frown trying to pucker her brows together. It wasn’t getting much traction. She’d be out in seconds if he could get her to shut up.
“When’s the last time you had a good night’s sleep?”
Her mouth quirked with what she’d probably call irritation. “You’re not sidestepping my question, Jackman.”
“I think it qualified more as an accusation.”
“Which means you heard it and chose to ignore it.”
“I always ignore accusations.” Didn’t everybody?
She didn’t sigh, like most did. Just looked at him with that deadpan blinkless stare.
He stared back. What did she expect? They both knew he was thinking about her. He’d been thinking about her for two damn years, ever since she’d pulled up in front of his store in a dirty tan Nissan flatbed minitruck. She’d been wearing worn jeans hugging her ass like they owned it, an orange T-shirt with bleach spots all over it and a pair of red plastic sunglasses. What man with blood in his veins wasn’t thinking about her?
But Susie had “hands off” signals blaring even then. All mouth and attitude, which was really the wrong way to go if she didn’t want his attention. He’d given it his best shot, ignoring her, doing everything he could to not even acknowledge she existed. Because he was nice like that and it didn’t take a neon sign to tell him she would rather be electrocuted than take on a man with six siblings to worry about.
Strangely enough, he couldn’t quite do it.
He found himself keeping tabs on her off and on, through their store windows. Listening for her name in the general chatter and gossip that flowed through the town. Watching her back when she went someplace where every man in town would be keeping his lecherous eyes on her, hoping and praying for a shot at her. Letting her pick and pry at him whenever she got a bug up her ass about something he had every right to do. He even liked it. Liked the strange tingle of anticipation, knowing he would see her. Talk to her. Get her to give him one of her sassy grins before she flounced away, swaying that fantastic ass at him the entire way across their street.
Some days, he wondered if maybe she liked it too, because God knew the woman would seek him out if he was getting a little too successful at forgetting her. Then she’d run away, scared by what she found if she got too close.
She didn’t run that night in the cabin though.
Would she run now?
Her eyes finally closed, resignation in her drooping shoulders. She opened her pink lips to say something he knew he wasn’t going to want to hear.
“I haven’t slept right in months.”
Her mouth closed, her gaze suddenly more alert. Every line of her went wary, but she didn’t stop him or throw him out, so…
“I wake up in the morning twice as tired as when I lie down. You know what I mean?” He knew she did. Those smudges under her eyes said she did. “We slept at the cabin.” After hours and hours of slow, mind-melting sex, of course, but mentioning that wouldn’t help his cause.
“We’re not sleeping together, Locke.” Figured. The second he showed restraint, Susie loved to throw it out the window. “We shouldn’t have the first time and we’re not doing it again. Ever.”
He wouldn’t smile at her. She’d figure out she was as convincing as a wrung-out dishrag if he did. “I’m not talking about sex.” Yet. “I’m talking about sleep. Maybe even dreaming for once.”
Now she sighed. “You promised you wouldn’t push.”
“Asking isn’t pushing.”
“You’re not asking, either.”
“Fine.” He set his forearms on the table, leaning toward her, hoping like hell he didn’t screw this up. The thought of walking out the door and never being let back in scared the shit out of him, leaving his gut in knots. Be gentle… “I want to hold you, all night long. I want to feel you stretched out next to me, breathing against my neck. I want to smell your hair and whatever that fl
owery shit is you put in it and dream about holding you all night long. I need some goddamn peace, Susie, and I want it with you.”
She blinked, swallowing so hard he heard it. Practically felt it. Maybe he would have if his heart wasn’t beating so rough his temples ached.
“I-I don’t think there was a question in there.”
“If I ask, you’ll say no just to prove you can.”
Her lids fluttered closed.
“It’s just us, baby. We can be honest when it’s just us. I need you tonight. And I think you need me. It doesn’t have to be more than that.”
A lick to her lips. Her brows came together again while she seemed to argue with herself. “People will talk.”
“When has that ever stopped me from anything?”
She seemed to weigh that, finally opening her eyes. “We can’t have sex, I mean it.”
“I can live with that.” For now.
She studied him, her lips twitching at the corners. “I’m gonna regret this, aren’t I?”
“Not if I have anything to say about it.”
“I know,” she muttered, shaking her head. “That’s what worries me.” She stood, reaching her slim hand out and slipping her fingers over his. She tugged and just like that, he could breathe again. “One night, Jackman. Just sleep.”
“Just sleep.”
She didn’t miss his lack of agreement to the other stipulation, but thankfully, she didn’t make a fuss about it. Just sighed and pulled him toward her bedroom.
The short trip wasn’t easy on his nerves. A million questions ran through his mind. Would she allow him under the blankets with her? Would they sleep skin to skin? Could he keep his hands off her all night long, as he’d promised? Would she forget herself and let her own hands wander over him? If she did, did that mean all bets were off?
He wasn’t the only one second-guessing himself, he decided, when Susie stared at her wrought-iron girl bed like it was a dragon come to eat her. She let go of him and brought her hand up to worry her fingers over the charm on her necklace. “I’m insane to be doing this.”
“It’s not like we haven’t done it before.”
She turned to pierce him with a displeased look.
Well, it wasn’t.
“That was different. We were carried away. This time, we’re just walking in. It’s…it’s…”
“Lacking romance?”
She snorted on her laughter. She actually snorted. Then kept right on laughing.
“What? I can be romantic.” That night in the cabin was damn romantic. Fire burning, a soft bed, beers and pretzels… He frowned. Maybe that last bit hadn’t been the stuff women dream about, but sitting across from her on the cabin’s rug while she clutched the sheet over her chest, watching her throat move as she swallowed from the long-neck? It was damn romantic to him.
Susie’s hand fell on his chest, soothing over his heart. He liked it, until she used the other to wipe the tears from her eyes. “Don’t hurt yourself thinking about it. Just trust me, romance isn’t something I think you’re able to do on purpose.”
Interesting. “So you think I’ve done it on accident all this time?”
“No, I think you’ve tried it with a sledgehammer all this time.” But she was smiling while she said it. Relaxed. Which meant she must not mind sledgehammers too much…
He saw the exact instant she realized what he meant to do. Her eyes widened, the tension in her shoulders coming back in a heartbeat. “Locke…”
“I’m not going to break my word.” He caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers, stroking down and under to tip her chin up. Then he ran his lips over hers, a taste of a kiss. She moaned, just a little one, but it was almost enough to push him past his limit. He’d waited so long to feel her again. To touch her. Hunger threatened to steal his intentions, feeding the urge to sink his hands into her hair and hold her in place so he could kiss her the way he’d been aching to for months. Drowning himself in her feel and warmth and flavor… He almost gave in, but he couldn’t rush this. Couldn’t overwhelm her. She had to come to him on her own or she wouldn’t come at all… “I’m just setting the mood.”
“There wasn’t supposed to be a mood,” she reminded, but her hands slid up his arms and she leaned into him.
It was all he could do not to shout in relief. Instead, he kissed her again, firmer this time, and damn she felt good. Warm and strong, her body sinking into his and her needy little touches at the back of his neck and shoulders telling him he was doing this right. He wanted to squeeze her closer, run his hands down her back and mold her to the heavy rise of his cock, but more than ever, he needed to behave. But it was incrementally easier to keep his hands loose, let her guide the moment, the intensity. Next time, he promised himself, next time he wouldn’t need to hold back.
“Sure there was,” he responded softly, straining to keep his tone reassuring.
She tilted her head back, and he followed her unspoken request, kissing and caressing his way down her throat.
“Restfulness, remember? Let me help you rest.”
Her moan this time was full of caution. “This is asking for trouble.”
“No.” His palms settled on her hips, his thumbs finding their way under the hem of her shirt. Silken skin trembled beneath his calluses. “I’m asking you to trust me. For one night, let me prove that you can trust me.”
Her eyes gleamed, shadows of pain he couldn’t miss in their depths. Pain and secrets he hoped to God he was wrong about. “Maybe you’re not the one who can’t be trusted.”
“Then trust me enough for both of us.”
He brought his mouth down on hers and they both gave in.
Chapter Three
Susie sank into the bed, her head on her pillow, her fingers speared in Locke’s hair. The short strands sprang through them, tickling as she held him tight to her.
I so should not be doing this. But she wanted him more than she wanted anything in the entire world, especially reason. His mouth made love to hers, slow strokes of his tongue, ones she could feel in tighter, infinitely more sensitive places. Places that were coming awake in a rush, wanting their turn in his care.
She arched beneath him, her aching breasts tight and desperate to rub against him, but he was too far. He held himself just above her, his thigh between hers, pressing to the core of her that was getting wetter by the second, his forearms under her back. He’d held her like this before, cradling her like a precious thing, protecting her from the size of him. Didn’t he know she wanted the size of him? Loved feeling his weight and breadth. All his strength, trembling under her fingertips…her lips…
She dragged her hands down his neck, sculpting his shoulders, her fingers curling into the rough fabric of his work polo shirt. It didn’t feel right, not when she knew the smooth contours of his warm skin. The taste that was so uniquely him. She tugged on the offending fabric, wanting it out of her way. For some reason, he took that as a cue to pull away from kissing her.
At her mewl of displeasure, he simply shook his head and yanked the shirt off, throwing it away like it was on fire. He almost dived back down to her but stopped short. Next thing she knew, he had the hem of her blue T-shirt and was whipping it over her head too.
“Hey!” Damn it, the shirt wasn’t exactly a tent but at least it did something to hide the fact that her already large breasts had swelled to fuller proportions.
“We should get rid of this too.” His surprisingly deft fingers popped the clip above her breastbone before she realized what he was talking about, and her monster tits did the rest, snapping the straining material completely off until it hung only from her shoulders.
She looked down at herself, shocked but not, then back at his self-satisfied smirk. “I’m not going to ask why a man so widely regarded as the Town Monk knows how to do that.”
That sexy half smile of his lifted one corner of his mouth. “Probably shouldn’t, no.”
Susie shrugged out of the useless straps of h
er bra, aware of Locke hungrily watching every sway and jiggle. Was that a sweat breaking out on his brow? If it was, he deserved it.
“Are you secretly a man-whore?” she teased, loving the dusky color rising on his cheeks, just barely visible in the light from the living room area. “Out on the weekends prowling for tail? Scoring like a champ?”
He had to be, the way he’d managed to already undo her pants button and zipper. His big hand slipped under the fabric at her back, cupping her ass firmly before dragging her clothes past her hips. Another kiss, probably to shut her up, but she didn’t care. This was hot, wet and open, his tongue licking at her lips, the hard muscles of his chest pressed seamlessly to her breasts. Ten seconds, she realized. That was all the time he needed to get her buck-ass naked and not minding at all. “Not last I noticed.”
She reached for his fly, more than willing to cop a feel of her own.
Only, somehow, she was on her back again, Locke’s hips between her thighs and slowly, gently grinding against her mound. His jeans weren’t exactly comfortable, but something about the texture on her inner thighs had her gasping.
“Tonight’s for you, remember?”
No. “I want to touch you.”
He brought his forehead to hers, his eyes closed, strain in every line of him. “You have to leave me something, Suze. I’m holding on by a thread for you.”
She swallowed, guilt slithering back to the forefront. “I could—”
He chuckled, a harsh sound lacking humor, but it didn’t scare her. Not when he pressed such soft kisses to the edge of her jaw. “Don’t tempt me, baby. You have no idea what I’d give for you to do me that favor again, but I meant what I said. I’m taking care of you tonight.”