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Torn

Page 3

by Cynthia Eden


  “Don’t even think it,” Victoria warned him as she leaned forward and swiped her security card over that panel. The last thing she wanted was to play another round of stop-­the-­elevator with him. Very resolutely, she hit the button for her floor.

  His lips curved, just the faintest bit. “I don’t have to stop it this time. I’m sure we’ll have plenty of privacy at your place for our little chat.” He rolled back his shoulders. “We need to clear the air. It’ll be good, for both of us.”

  She seriously doubted that. They didn’t speak again until the elevator stopped on the top floor, and then he was the one to back away. He motioned for her to head out, and she pretty much jumped out of that elevator. She hurried past him and nearly ran down the hallway. Victoria was the only resident who lived on the top floor. A penthouse. Expensive as all hell, but totally worth it—­both for the view and the privacy. In order to get to this floor, a special key card was required in the elevator.

  The lush carpeting swallowed their footsteps as they headed for her door. She fumbled a bit with the lock but seconds later they were inside. Victoria shut the door behind them and sealed them into her home.

  She tossed her keys onto the small table in the foyer. She didn’t bother flipping on the lights. The large, floor-­to-­ceiling windows in her den let in plenty of illumination, courtesy of the Atlanta skyline. She headed toward those windows and stared out at the city. Usually the view soothed her.

  Not tonight.

  She waited for him to speak first.

  “You want me to apologize, don’t you?” Wade said as he came to stand near her.

  Victoria risked a quick glance at him. His gaze wasn’t on her. It was on the city. The lights.

  She followed his stare. This view is why I sank all of my savings into this place. Because I can stand here, look out at the rest of the world and feel safe. No one is around me. I’m free up here.

  Free, but not alone—­not right then. She cleared her throat. “An apology would be a good start.” She turned to face him. “Just because we’re partners on this case, that doesn’t give you any rights in my life. You don’t get to control what I do or who I do it with.” No one did. “So if I want to go out, hook up with some hot guy and forget the rest of the world—­”

  He turned toward her. “Why not me?”

  Her mouth fell open a bit.

  “Why not hook up with me? If it’s sex you want, come to me.” He moved even closer. She stiffened her knees and refused to back up. “You know the attraction is there between us.”

  Victoria wasn’t going to pretend that she didn’t feel that hot lick of heat when they were close. “I think you’re attracted to most women.” She’d seen the way he flirted—­too many times. “You said you knew me? Well, guess what? I know you, too.”

  He shook his head. “You were right before. I don’t think we know each other nearly as well as we both believed.” He lifted his hand.

  She tensed.

  “I don’t want you to do that,” he said, voice thickening. “You let him touch you. Why not me?”

  Because the man at the club hadn’t mattered. Her rules. Always, hers. Flynn played the game she wanted. No commitment, just fun. He was easy to deal with. Easy to understand.

  She didn’t think there was anything easy about Wade at all.

  Wade’s fingers curled around her chin and he tilted her head up.

  “I’m not looking for some kind of commitment,” Victoria blurted. Commitment was the last thing she wanted. Ever. “I don’t want ties, Wade.”

  “And you think you’d have them with me?”

  “We work together, we—­”

  He kissed her.

  She’d wondered before how he would kiss. If he’d be careful at first, if he’d try to woo her with sensual skill.

  She hadn’t considered that he’d just . . . take.

  There was no tentativeness in his kiss. No hesitation at all. Her lips were open, so were his, and he claimed her mouth with a hot, hungry savagery. His tongue slid over the curve of her mouth. He thrust it past her lips, and her heart slammed into her ribs.

  Maybe she should have pushed him away. She didn’t. Instead, her hands rose and locked around his shoulders. She pulled him closer. She opened her mouth wider. He wasn’t the only one going to take.

  Earlier that night, fear and sadness had twisted inside of her. She’d left LOST as fast as she could. She’d gone home. She’d read over those terrible files on Kennedy Lane.

  She’s dead. I know she is. Another one gone.

  And it had been too much. She’d needed to escape. To put the dead behind her and feel alive again.

  But Wade had stopped that plan. Wade—­handsome, sexy Wade. Wade—­the man kissing her as if he wanted to devour her right then and there. And she . . .

  Maybe I want to be devoured.

  His mouth slowly pulled from hers, but he didn’t let her go. She didn’t let him go, either. Victoria realized that she’d never just kissed a man before—­and ignited.

  Not until Wade.

  “Been wanting to do that for a while,” he admitted.

  Then you should have done it.

  “You don’t have to go to some bar,” Wade said gruffly. “And find a stranger to give you what you need.”

  He had no clue what she needed.

  “I’m right here, Viki. I can give you everything that you want.”

  Oh, but those words were tempting.

  But Wade . . . Wade wasn’t a onetime thrill. She wouldn’t be able to walk away from him and go on with her life. She’d see him every day, and how was she supposed to handle that? Her fingers flexed on his shoulders. “I told you . . .”

  “You didn’t want ties. Fine with me. I’ll take what you want to give.”

  Those words . . . she didn’t understand him, not at all. “Just what are you offering?”

  “Consider me your partner, with benefits.”

  Her eyes widened. No, he had not just said—­

  Wade pulled away from her. “Think about it.”

  Her hands fell to her sides.

  “See you in the morning.” Then he headed for the door.

  Wait—­now he was leaving? When she could still taste him? When her body was aching? When she just wanted to drag him into her bedroom and forget everything else? Now?

  She didn’t want to think about his offer. If she thought about things, she’d change her mind. She’d see how wrong this was. How wrong all of it was.

  Partner, with benefits.

  Her breath came a bit faster. Yes, yes, this was wrong. In so many ways. It was—­ “Stay,” she said.

  He turned back toward her. She saw the glint of hard lust burning in his gaze. That hot fire should have made her hesitate. It didn’t.

  It just made her hurry toward him. When he was just a few feet away, she stopped. Her heart was racing hard enough to shake her chest, but she tried to school her expression as she gazed up at him. “No promises. No ties.” They could just take the pleasure and walk away, right? They were both adults. Smart, capable. They could do this. He seemed to understand and actually be cool with her rules.

  “I’ll give you what you need,” Wade promised her.

  Right then, he was what she needed. Even when she was kissing Flynn she’d been on edge. And when Wade called her name in the club, her first thought had been . . .

  Yes. Him! She hadn’t been angry that he was in the alley. She’d been glad to see him. Even if he had screwed up her plans.

  And, maybe . . . maybe he was the answer that she’d been looking for. There was no risk with him—­she knew Wade was one of the good guys. He wouldn’t hurt her. So they’d take each other. They’d let their desire go, and . . .

  No ties.

  She offered her hand to him. Wade’s gaze drop
ped to her fingers. His lips tightened but he took her hand. She felt the press of his calluses against her. “Then I guess we have a deal,” Victoria said. She licked her lips, nervous now and—­

  He kissed her again, and the desire she felt flared even more within her. “Damn right,” Wade rasped against her mouth, “we do.”

  And Victoria knew there would be no going back.

  HER HIGH HEELS wobbled a bit on the broken sidewalk. Melissa Hastings put her hand on the brick wall, steadying herself. She’d definitely had too much to drink.

  Time to call it a night.

  She sucked in a slow, deep breath and tried to fight the nausea rolling through her stomach. She didn’t usually get sick when she drank, but tonight . . . tonight was different.

  Tonight she’d had way too much because she’d been celebrating.

  I’m free.

  Finally. He wouldn’t be holding her back any longer. She’d be able to do exactly what she wanted, when she wanted.

  Freedom was heady. Freedom was hot. Freedom was . . .

  Making my head swim.

  Her hair slid over her face as she lowered her head. She’d go catch a cab and head back to her apartment. She’d sleep this off and be as good as new tomorrow.

  Better than new.

  I’m free.

  After another bracing breath, she lifted her head. Her hair slid over her shoulders and—­

  He was there.

  Standing in the shadows, just a few feet away.

  “Are you feeling all right?” His voice carried easily to her.

  And, no, she wasn’t feeling all right. She was actually even dizzier and her tongue had started to feel thick in her mouth. That wasn’t normal. She’d been drunk before and hadn’t felt this way. What is wrong with me?

  “You probably should have been more careful,” he said as he stepped forward, “with what you drank.”

  “Y-­You . . .” Her breath choked out as fear snaked through her. He shouldn’t be there.

  “Did you think we were done?” he asked her softly as he continued to close in on her. “Just because you said we were through?” His deep voice seemed to wrap around her. A sexy, seductive voice.

  A voice that belonged to a very dangerous man.

  She glanced over her shoulder. The club wasn’t so far away. There were plenty of people right there. She was perfectly safe, even if she was beginning to feel sick as all hell. She turned her stare back to him.

  He’d stopped a few feet away, but with the light behind him, shadows covered his face. He had a tall, powerful form. A great body. She’d thought that the first time she’d seen him. And, sure, she’d been aware of his danger—­he had that sexy, bad boy edge. She’d wanted him.

  He’d wanted her.

  Now I want to get away from him.

  “Stay away from me,” Melissa said as she backed up a step. “I told you—­”

  “Are you afraid of me?”

  Yes.

  Something glinted in the darkness. Her heart thudded even faster. Oh, dear God, did he have a knife? No, no, surely he didn’t. That was crazy.

  Wasn’t it?

  But then he stepped forward, and that glint vanished. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

  The dizziness was getting worse. She put her hand to her forehead.

  “Oh, Melissa . . .” He sighed out her name. “Don’t you know better than to leave your glass unattended?”

  She . . . she had . . . but just for a moment. One dance. And her friends had been at the bar, right next to her glass. Her roommate Jim had been there. Jim always looked out for her. The drink had been safe.

  Hadn’t it?

  Her knees started to buckle, but he was there to catch her.

  “You put . . . something in my drink . . . ?” Now her nausea and dizziness made sense. He’d drugged her drink. Maybe roofied her. So scream, Melissa! A voice in her head cried out. Scream! People are right there.

  She opened her mouth.

  And felt the sharp prick of a knife beneath her chin.

  I did see a knife, glinting in the dark.

  “I’m not here to hurt you, sweetheart. I just want to make you happy.”

  A tear slid down her cheek.

  “So don’t scream. Just relax. In a few more moments you’ll be far away, with me.”

  Melissa didn’t want to be with him. She’d broken it off. They were done.

  “Sorry!” She heard his voice boom out. She blinked and tried to see what was happening. “My girlfriend had a little too much to drink.” His arm was wrapped around her. “I’ll make sure she gets home okay.”

  He was talking to someone else. Her eyes narrowed as she turned her head. One of the bouncers from the club was walking toward them. She had a chance—­

  The knife pricked her skin. Could the bouncer see it?

  “Say a word to him,” he said softly, “and I will hurt you, so very badly.”

  She didn’t speak.

  “Don’t worry!” he called out to the bouncer. “I’ll take good care of my girl.”

  She wasn’t his girl.

  The bouncer’s footsteps shuffled away.

  Her eyes began to drift closed. She couldn’t hold them open any longer.

  “That was so good,” he said. “Now don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. Just like I said. Such good care . . .”

  WADE CLENCHED HIS hands into fists and fought to hold onto his control. They were in Victoria’s bedroom. He was near the bed. She was in the doorway.

  Holy hell, this was happening. Victoria was about to be his. Finally.

  She stared at him and then lifted her fingers and turned off the lights.

  “You don’t have to do that,” he said. His voice sounded rough and a bit ragged, but when a wet dream came to life, how else was he supposed to talk? “I want to see you.” All of you.

  He heard the rustle of clothing, and, with the city skyline drifting through her bedroom blinds, he could just make out her sensual form as she pulled her shirt over her head. “You don’t want to see my scars,” Victoria said. “It’s better this way.”

  Screw that. He knew she’d been attacked by that bastard with a knife while they were in Louisiana. And her scars—­they weren’t a turnoff. Nothing about her was. Not to him.

  There was more faint rustling and then . . . then Victoria was walking toward him. He could hear the soft sound of her footfalls. When she touched him, when she pressed her body to his, he realized that she was totally naked.

  “You’re wearing too many clothes,” she told him. “If this is going to work, you need to get naked.”

  “Oh, it’s going to work,” he muttered. Provided my control stays in place. She had no idea just how badly he wanted her. He got that now. She’d understand soon enough.

  But he didn’t strip. Not yet. Instead, he put his hands on her shoulders. Such smooth, soft skin, and then, slowly, his fingers skimmed down her body. Over her arms. Across to her breasts. He loved her breasts, so round and full. He could feel the nipples—­tight, aroused—­pushing against his fingers, and he had to tease them. Stroke them.

  “Wade . . .”

  And on down his fingers went as the two of them stood in the near-­dark. Over her stomach. Over the faint line of a scar that he could feel. His fingers lingered there, caressing softly, wishing that he could take away her pain.

  “Don’t—­”

  His fingers moved away at her sharp cry. He’d come back to her scars later. He’d show her that every single inch of her body was perfect to him.

  Down, down his fingers went. Her legs were parted and his hand slid toward her sex. Soft. Hot. And when he thrust his fingers inside—­

  Her hands clamped around his arms and she held on tight.

  “I can’t wait to be in you,�
�� he rasped.

  “Then don’t wait.” Her hips rocked against his hand. “Don’t make me wait.”

  She was wet. For him. Turned on already.

  He slid his fingers over her sex. He liked to touch her. Liked to explore every bit of her and hear the hitch of her breath. His cock shoved against the front of his jeans. The zipper was probably imprinted on him, and he didn’t even give a damn. He enjoyed touching her far too much to stop.

  Would she climax for him this way? It would be so much better if she came now, then he could go in, drive deep, get her to erupt for him—­

  “Strip,” Victoria told him as her short nails bit into his arms. “Now, Wade, now.”

  He liked the need in her voice. The sensual demand.

  She pulled away from him and climbed onto the bed.

  Wade stripped. Threw his shirt across the room. He ditched his shoes and socks and lowered himself onto the mattress. His hand curled around her hip and he leaned over her. He wanted her mouth beneath his, he wanted—­

  “You don’t have to seduce me,” Victoria whispered. “I’m ready now.”

  Good to know. But he’d been fantasizing about her like mad for the last few weeks, and he wasn’t about to screw this up. She won’t ever think of freaking Flynn again. So he kissed her. Deep and hard, and he savored her. His hands stroked her body as he explored every single inch of her.

  First her mouth. Then her neck. He pressed his mouth to her throat, right over the frantic beat of her pulse. He licked her and used the light edge of his teeth on her tender skin. She moaned for him then, so he did it again, harder.

  He kissed her breasts. He loved the taste of her. Sweet. So sweet. She arched up against him when he licked her nipples. She whispered out his name.

  And he kept exploring. He spread her legs wide and put his mouth on her.

  This wasn’t going to be some fast hookup in the dark. By the time they were done, he’d own her body.

  Just as she’d own his.

  When she tried to pull away from his mouth, he put his hands on her hips, held her close, and he tasted her. He got a little drunk on her—­a lot drunk as he stroked and licked and she came against his mouth.

  She yelled out his name and he rose above her, still licking his lips. Still tasting her.

 

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