Twisted Truths

by Rebecca Zanetti

  She knew what he meant. “No.”

  He blinked, and his hand somehow heated across her flesh. “I’m not in full control here.”

  A warning. Definitely a warning.

  “Good.” She lifted her chin, mesmerized by the primitive glint in his eyes.

  He released her. “Take off your shirt.”

  She glanced toward the bedrooms. “Shouldn’t we—”

  “No. Take off your shirt.” His tone lowered and roughened. “Don’t make me tell you again.”

  Red-hot desire cut through her, nearly shocking in its intensity. Why? Why would his order, his command, even his determination weaken her knees and throw flutters down her abdomen to her clit? A part of her, one she didn’t trust, wanted to defy him. Just to see what he’d do. This dark side of herself—of him—thrilled her to the edge. The other part had at least a sliver of self-preservation. Yet still. She wouldn’t be so easily tamed. Slowly, deliberately, she reached for the bottom of her shirt and drew it over her head. Then she lifted both eyebrows in the most smart-ass expression she could summon, considering her nipples were obviously diamond hard beneath his sharp gaze.

  “See? You don’t need that bra I ruined,” he rumbled, his smirk full of male satisfaction.

  Challenge rose in her, heated and strong. “You’re right,” she whispered, grasping her nipples and groaning at the sparks of instant pleasure.

  His hands immediately grasped hers and pulled them free. “Oh no, baby. I do the touching.”

  Triumph filled her. “If you say so,” she breathed, trying for nonchalant. She didn’t make it.

  He shook his head slowly, studying her, satisfaction curving his lips. As if he couldn’t quite believe her daring…or his opportunity. “Take off those yoga pants before I rip them off you.”

  She was running out of clothes, so she didn’t hesitate. They hit the ground, and she kicked them aside, leaving her in a silky pink thong. She reached for it, and he stopped her.

  “No. I like that.” Without preamble, he dropped to his knees and set her ass on the back of the sofa.

  Vulnerability swept her as she looked directly at the darkened doorways. Malloy or Tina could come out at any moment. “Denver? We should go to the bedroom,” she whispered.

  In answer, he nipped her sex through the silk. His hands caressed down her legs, his strength and gentleness both obvious.

  She jumped, her thighs trembling. It was too decadent. “I don’t think—”

  He snapped the thong in two, and then his mouth was on her. She leaned back against the sofa, her eyelids fluttering shut. It was more than she could take. He licked and nipped, his fingers joining his mouth and talented tongue. Her legs trembled, and fire flashed through her, but he wouldn’t let her topple over. She kept trying to open her eyes to watch for movement in the doorway, but they kept closing.

  His thumb pressed against her clit, and his fingers stroked inside her. She shook, her knees feeling like Jell-O. Sparks of pleasure zipped through her, and she tried to push against him and gain more friction.

  He chuckled, the sound vibrating through her core.

  She gasped and opened her eyes, the feelings too incredible to stop. “Shhh.” God. What if they woke Malloy?

  Denver looked up, his eyes a sizzling blue of intensity. He leaned back. “Worried?”

  She shifted her weight, panic and desire smashing into her abdomen. “They could come out.” Her voice was way too breathy.

  He smiled then, the sight dangerous. Warning bells clanged fully alive in her head, and she held out her hands. He stood suddenly, and she leaned farther back. “You wanted to play, baby.” Barely ducking his shoulder, he lifted her against his chest, cradling her.

  She bit back a yelp and then relaxed in his arms. Good. They were going to the bedroom.

  He moved around the sofa toward the fireplace, and she stiffened. “What are you doing?” she breathed.

  For answer, her quiet protector set her on her knees on the sofa seat, facing those doorways, her belly against the back cushions. Her elbows settled on the sofa back. If Malloy came out of his room, he’d see her fully bare breasts. “Denver?” she whispered.

  His hand was instantly between her legs from behind.

  She gasped, her hips instinctively tilting to give him access. He chuckled again, the sound low and rough as he pressed his knees to the sofa behind her.

  “No,” she said, shaking her head, trying to focus. The sensuality, the danger, wrapped around her with desperate heat.

  “Yes,” he corrected, his knees nudging her thighs farther apart. “You’re about to learn self-control and obedience, sweetheart.”

  She trembled from the dark promise. Why wasn’t she pissed? Her body was one long nerve of need, and all she could do was vibrate in place. He was so sexy, and she wanted everything he had. All that he was. This was part of him, and she craved more.

  His big hands palmed her thighs and he lifted her up. “We’re gonna need leverage.”

  She caught hold of the back of the sofa, her hands curling over the fabric, her gaze on the darkened doorway hiding the other couple. This was insane. Then the tip of his cock touched her clit, and she cried out from the raw pleasure.

  His teeth sank into the back of her shoulder. “Quiet,” he whispered, his voice melted sex.

  She blinked, her body shaking with need. Tremors ran down her arms, and she lost her balance, falling onto her left forearm, protecting her bandaged right one. Only his strong hold on her kept her from tumbling over the back of the couch to the floor on the other side.

  “Better.” Using his thighs on the sofa for balance, he shoved up into her while also pulling her down.

  Pain and sharply edged pleasure exploded inside her, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out again. Her vision hazed. Using both hands, he tilted her butt toward him, forcing her up and slightly over the sofa. Then he slammed back home, his mouth nuzzling her neck.

  She arched her back as sensations ripped through her. Keeping quiet was killing her. This was torture. He was torturing her on purpose, and he was enjoying it. “You are such a dick,” she gasped.

  He stopped nuzzling. “Oh, you’re going to apologize for that,” he warned.

  She shivered.

  He released her hip and reached around to toy with a nipple. Ecstasy rippled through her, landing squarely in her clit. She squirmed against him, trying to move, but he held her in place. Then he moved to the other nipple and pinched.

  She gasped and pressed against him. “Denver.”

  “Apologize for calling me a dick.” Amusement darkened his tone. His fingers tapped from her punished nipple down her abdomen. She sucked in air. He kept going, his touch hot. Oh God. He was heading even farther down.

  “I’m sorry for calling you names” she breathed right before he reached her clit.

  He sighed and then gently rubbed her. “Fair enough. Now you be quiet, or they’ll hear you and come out.”

  Her eyes opened wide and she pressed her lips together.

  Denver lifted her up again, apparently done with playing. His thrusts were hard and fast, filling her completely. Each strong stroke pushed her over the back of the sofa before he yanked her toward him again, making her breasts jiggle with each movement. Just when she couldn’t take any more, he hammered even deeper.

  So much desperate pleasure filled her it was all she could do not to cry out. Forcing herself to be quiet just enhanced every feeling, every sensation. Finally, his lips brushed her ear. “Now, baby.”

  As if her body had just been waiting for his command, she detonated. The room flashed white and then hazed while wave upon wave of raw electricity ripped through her. He thrust faster, his hands bruising her hips, his mouth against her neck. Finally, she came down and went limp with a soft whimper, no longer caring if anybody heard.

  He shuddered and then kissed her neck. “There we go,” he murmured softly.

  She murmured something in a sensual fog. Cold air
brushed her face. The ticking of the clock permeated her cocoon.

  Slowly, she lifted her head. Her body, even still wrapped in his, chilled.

  It was time.

  Chapter

  20

  Denver shifted his shirt beneath the bulletproof vest and made sure he had free range of motion while wearing the stupid thing. It had been some time since he’d put one on. He stood near the sofa and tried to banish thoughts of what had happened there last night. He still felt Noni around him.

  If they survived this, if he lived through the coming showdown with Cobb and Madison, could he hope for a life with her? Was it possible? Hope was a dangerous drug, and he’d tried to keep it away for so long. What if?

  He had to focus. “What time is it?” he asked Malloy, who sat at the kitchen table.

  The cop glanced at his watch. “One in the morning. I have a force ready to move on our command, and my men have scoped the area. It seems quiet, which probably isn’t a good sign.”

  There was little chance Cobb and Madison hadn’t taken notice of Malloy amassing a force. Hopefully they wouldn’t have time to gather their forces before Denver had blown town. But when had luck ever been on his side? Denver tightened the vest. “Copy that. The road conditions are going to slow us down a little.”

  The bedroom door opened, and Noni stepped out.

  His chest took a hit from an invisible anvil. Every primitive feeling he’d ever had rose to the surface fast and hard. His. Everything about her was his—and he wanted to keep her. Bad.

  She’d dressed in jeans and a sweater, having pulled her dark hair back in a braid. “We ready?” she asked, studiously ignoring the sofa.

  Denver couldn’t take his gaze off her. Neither one of them would probably look at a fabric sofa the same again. “Yes.” He wanted to argue with her again, but he’d promised to let her stay with Malloy on the op. If Denver got the baby, he could immediately turn her over to Noni. And Malloy would keep her safe.

  Tina opened their door and came out, a bandage in her hands. “We need to change your arm bandage, Jamie.”

  A sound caught Denver’s attention. He stiffened and turned his head toward the door.

  “What?” Malloy asked, shoving to stand on one leg.

  Denver closed his eyes and reached out with his super-hearing. “One large vehicle, going slow, heading our way down the driveway from the lake road.” He hustled toward the light switch and turned it off. “They’re trying to be quiet.” Shit, shit, shit.

  Malloy reached for a gun from the back of his borrowed jeans. “Tina? Go back into the bedroom.”

  Denver jerked his head for Noni to do the same. “Take the gun that I gave to you out of the drawer by the fridge,” he whispered.

  She paled but did as he’d said.

  Denver angled toward the front door and looked out at the cold landscape. His breath heated, and he calmed down into battle mode. No emotion—just calculation. “We’ll have to take them out. It’s too cold for us to run anywhere.” Plus, Malloy couldn’t run.

  A large SUV rolled to a stop.

  Denver tensed. “One vehicle only.” Shadows could be seen, but he couldn’t count them. He quietly opened the door and pressed his gun out into the darkness. “I’ll take one out right away.”

  The driver’s side door opened, and a man jumped to the ground.

  Denver paused. Ryker? Emotion bombarded him as his instincts recognized family.

  “Don’t fuckin’ shoot,” came clearly through the whistling wind. Ryker shut the door and gave a smart-ass wave.

  Denver’s entire body relaxed, and he pulled the front door fully open. “It’s my brothers,” he said to Malloy, shocked as hell at the gratitude and relief slamming into him. He tucked his gun into the back of his waistband and strode into the storm, straight at Ryker, to envelope him in a strong hug. God, he’d missed them. He clapped his brother on the back. “I told you not to come.”

  If Madison and Cobb had found them, this was going to be a trap. Ryker couldn’t be caught in it. But Denver didn’t want to let go. Having Ry at his side made the world better—and safer.

  Heath exited from the passenger side and made his way toward them, also giving him a hug. “Since when do we listen to you?”

  Denver leaned back, the world righting itself. He hadn’t realized how off he’d felt without them. “I’m glad you guys came.” It was as close as he could think to express himself. To let them know how much he counted on them and needed them. While he’d wanted them safe, he needed them at his back. They’d help get the baby. And if this was their last stand, if Cobb and Madison showed up, they’d be together to fight. Where they belonged. “Thanks.”

  “Where else would we be?” Heath asked, his eyes dark. “It took longer than we’d hoped, but we had to secure the South Dakota property better before leaving.”

  Denver paused. “You shouldn’t have left Zara and Anya.” Guilt swept through him.

  “They’re safe. I guarantee it,” Heath countered, nodding toward the cabin. “I take it we’re on op?”

  “Yeah,” Denver said.

  Ryker tugged on the vest. “Nice.”

  Denver nodded. “Borrowed it.” He turned, his step lighter than it had been in days. His brothers finally got to meet Noni. Suddenly, oddly, his palms started sweating. His palms never sweat. What if she didn’t like them? How could she not like them? They were amazing men.

  “You’re thinking awfully hard,” Ryker murmured, walking alongside him toward the door. “Are you worried about the gang and the baby exchange?”

  Denver pushed open the door. “Yes.”

  Malloy was waiting, standing by the fridge on one leg, his gun pointed at Denver. “Damn it,” he muttered, although his gaze showed relief. “You guys promised you’d stay out of Snowville.”

  Ryker stepped past Denver and strode for the cop, quickly shaking hands. Without seeming to, he somehow got Malloy to sit back down and get off that leg. “It’s good to see you again.”

  Malloy frowned.

  Heath shut the door behind them. “How’s the leg?”

  “Fine,” Malloy snapped. “It appears your enemies are now my enemies.”

  Denver winced. “I told you we were sorry about that.”

  Ryker wiped snow off his jet black hair. “You have a standing invite from the brothers in Montana to relocate there. Something about a sheriff’s position opening up.”

  Malloy’s chin lowered. “You think I want to be a country fucking sheriff?”

  Denver grinned. “Why not?”

  The bedroom door opened, and Noni poked her head out. “Denver?” she asked, her face pale.

  He straightened and moved for her, gently taking her hand and leading her out. His shoulders stiffened. “Noni? These are my brothers, Ryker and Heath.” He brought her over to them, feeling like he’d brought a girl home for dinner for the first time.

  Her eyes widened and then she shook hands with both. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  Ryker smiled, all charm. “You too.”

  Heath grinned as well, his gaze searching. “What you’re doing to find the baby, to save her, that’s brave.”

  She shuffled her feet. “I don’t feel brave. Just determined.”

  “Even better,” Ryker said.

  Heath grasped a manila file from beneath his jacket and handed it over to Denver. “I did some research, and if at all possible, get Richie to sign this. We’ve already had it, ah, notarized. It’ll hold up in court, I promise.”

  Noni blinked. “You know about Richie?”

  Heath stretched his wrist. “Yes. He’s listed as the birth father on the certificate, so he’ll need parental rights terminated in order for your rights, per the will, to be followed. This is the easiest path but not the only one.”

  “Heath is a lawyer,” Denver explained. Although Heath didn’t like practicing law, it sure had come in handy once in a while.

  “Oh,” she said, glancing at the papers. “We have to
get Talia first.”

  Denver’s chest settled. For the first time he thought he might actually have a chance of surviving this. “All right. Let me explain the plan to you guys.” Hopefully they wouldn’t think he was crazy.

  * * *

  The plan was crazy.

  Noni slowly sipped her coffee as Denver and his brothers went over it detail by detail. Malloy, Heath, Tina, and Denver sat at the table, looking at maps, while Ryker stood behind Heath.

  As they talked, she took a moment to study them. She’d felt the scars when they’d shaken hands. Their blood brothers scars.

  It was a simple act, really, but it obviously had held so much meaning to them. They were truly a family. She liked seeing Denver as part of a family—as not being alone. Even if they couldn’t find a future together, he had people. That mattered.

  Just like she had Franny and Verna. She rubbed her chest. Man, she wished they could see how hard Denver was working to bring Talia home to them. How much he was willing to sacrifice to save the baby. When she’d wondered if he’d be able to love a baby, to love her, she’d been wrong.

  Denver was more than capable of love. His brothers proved that.

  Ryker had black hair that curled over his collar and sparkling bluish green eyes that seemed to take in everything at once. His features were more angled than Denver’s but not as much as Heath’s. He was just as tall as Denver—maybe about six foot four. Heath seemed just as tall too, with brown hair and greenish brown eyes.

  Ryker pointed out defensive positions, Heath opined the best offense, and Denver seemed to put it all together into a workable plan. They often spoke in shorthand, but they apparently understood one another. Malloy interjected several times with plans for the police presence while Tina kept an eye on his injuries; the arm had suddenly started bleeding again.

  It was odd to see Denver work so effortlessly with his brothers, but it made a nice kind of sense. He seemed like such a lone wolf that observing him with people he loved, with people he trusted, gave her hope that someday he’d find peace. Was there a chance he’d find that with her and Talia?