“It really can’t, Katie.”
Exhaling a sigh, she brought her coffee cup with her and slipped into the chair across from him. “Okay, what do you want to talk about?”
Cole’s expression gave nothing away, nor did his voice when he reached into the center of the table and slid her phone toward her, then asked, “How long have you been getting these messages?”
Katie froze. In that moment, two emotions ripped through her. Rage competed with terror, and she latched onto the first and safest one of the two. “You read my messages?” she snapped in outrage, grabbing her phone. “What gives you the right to invade my privacy like that?”
“How long, Katie?” His deep voice was low and even—unrattled by her indignation. That piercing gaze of his never wavered.
“Just yesterday. Did you read them?” she demanded, scrambling to hang on to the anger quickly giving way to panic.
“Did you?”
No. And she wasn’t sure she wanted to. Katie’s hand was shaking so badly, she clutched the phone tighter, trying to steady the message displayed on the home screen so she could read it. I’ll fucking kill you before I see you with someone else! You belong to me!
Katie’s heart dropped into her stomach. Her gut clenched, threatening to give back the coffee she’d just drank. If Carter thought she was involved with Cole . . . he would kill her. And this text was proof he was just crazy enough to do it. How had he gotten her number? Only hours after seeing her with Cole at the bar, the calls and texts had started. It was only a matter of time before he discovered where she was staying. Maybe he already knew.
“Katie?”
She barely registered Cole was speaking; his voice a million miles away as her pulse hammered in her ears, drowning out everything but the panic threatening to consume her.
“Katie, talk to me. This guy’s a fucking wackjob. I think you need to report this to the police. Get a restraining order or something.”
She shook her head, unable to tear her gaze away from the death threat. “I’ve tried. Trust me, Cole, it’ll only make things worse. If he knew I’d gone to the police, he’d come after me for sure.”
“What makes you so sure he won’t do that anyway?”
“What makes this any of your business?” she snapped defensively, knowing damn well he was right, but it was easier to shoot the messenger than face what Cole was suggesting. Setting her phone on the table, Katie shoved her chair back and walked over to the counter. Giving him her back, she braced her palms on the counter and leaned forward, shifting her weight off legs that suddenly felt weak in the knees. Dropping her head to her chest, she closed her eyes and took a series of slow, deep breaths, struggling to keep it together. Her mind raced in time with her heart as Cole’s words began to take root.
She didn’t hear him approach. Katie let out a startled yelp when Cole’s hand circled her bicep and he gently turned her to face him. Casually, he leaned his hip against the counter for support, his free hand bracing against the granite counter to bear the brunt of his weight.
“This became my business when Marcus sent me here.” Cole released his grip on her arm and slid his hand up to her shoulder, an innocent enough caress that she felt all the way to her toes. He gently squeezed, his thumb brushing over her collar bone. “I want to help you, Katie. I know it isn’t going to be easy, but I’m asking you to trust me.”
Help her what?—keep her safe?—for how long? In a few short months, Cole would be gone, and then where would that leave her? He wanted her to trust him, but he didn’t realize what he was asking. How could she trust him when she couldn’t even trust the feelings he was stirring inside her?—feelings she didn’t want to have, not for him, not for anyone. They scared the crap out of her. He scared the crap out of her. In the short time she’d known him, Cole had gotten under her skin like no other man she’d ever known—awaking her in ways she’d rather pretend no longer existed.
“I’m sorry, Cole. I . . . just can’t.”
Something flashed in his cerulean eyes. If she didn’t know better, she’d say it was disappointment. But the emotion was gone so fast she quickly convinced herself she’d been mistaken.
“I don’t really know you. And trust doesn’t come easily for me.”
“You don’t need to know me, Katie. Marcus knows me. He knows me better than anyone. Do you honestly think he’d send me here if he thought for one minute I would hurt you?”
Cole’s hand moved to the side of her neck, his fingers wrapping around her nape. His thumb swept over the pulse pounding in her carotid—evidence of just how much his touch affected her. She closed her eyes and exhaled a shaky breath, forcing herself to remain still as fear warred with desire.
The last man to touch her nearly killed her—choking the life out of her as she struggled to breathe, clawing at the flesh-covered vice wrapped around her throat, squeezing . . . squeezing . . .
Tears burned her eyes as she tried to hold them back. Cole was not Carter, she reminded herself for the umpteenth time as she battled the memories and the rising panic gripping her throat. Katie tried to focus on steadying her breaths, concentrating on the masculine smell of earthy spice enveloping her as she pulled Cole’s scent deep into her lungs.
Her lips parted, drawing him in, when Cole’s mouth gently brushed against hers—light as a butterfly’s kiss. She tensed to pull back, alarms sounding in her head, but then she heard Cole’s voice breaking through her panic as he whispered against her lips, “Shh . . . you’re all right.”
She repeated his vow over and over in her head as his lips touched hers again, tentative and guarded, careful not to take more than she was willing to give. His kiss was gentle, nondemanding, and for a moment she felt the tide of desire rising up to break over the surf of her fear. Liquid heat suffused her body, melting into her muscles as she slowly began to relax against him. Katie’s mouth yielded to his, and Cole immediately responded to her quarter, exhaling a growl of masculine approval.
She felt the rumble in his chest reverberate all the way to her toes as the angle of his mouth shifted to fit more fully over hers, the pressure of his lips growing firmer. Katie’s pulse leapt as the tide swept back, revealing her shore of uncertainty. But Cole seemed to be completely tuned in to her and wholly in control of each measured touch. He immediately pulled back, teasing his lips over hers again, courting her mouth until another wave of desire rose up to take control of her again.
“That’s it, Kat,” he encouraged, his graveled voice an auditory caress that stoked the fire burning low in her stomach.
She thrilled at the pet name he whispered against her lips. It bespoke of familiarity, and the intimacy of it swiftly forged a connection to him that went beyond just physical desire. This is dangerous, her voice of reason warned. You’re getting in over your head. She was a fool to open herself up to a man like him—a player who would see her as nothing more than another conquest. Yet all the common sense in the world couldn’t seem to make her break away from the most amazing kiss she’d ever experienced.
“Open your mouth, sweetheart. Let me taste you,” he coached softly.
His request was too tempting to resist, even when the little alarms sounding in her head warned her it was too soon. She wasn’t ready for this. But Cole had been nothing but tempered with her, gentle and controlled. Surely, he was safe to explore a kiss with, she reasoned, letting him prove she could trust him.
Slowly, Katie parted her lips. As they met softly and exchanged breaths, the faintest hint of his cinnamon toothpaste tingled on her tongue. She shifted, moving a little closer, and his tongue swept over her top lip, sending a jolt of heat right into her core. Moisture quickly dampened the scrap of cotton between her legs and she uttered a soft mewl of approval when, this time, his tongue swept passed her lips and she tentatively met it with her own. They danced a moment and he retreated. A second later, he was back, teasing her wickedly, and then it was gone again.
They played like this for a while, hi
s mouth seductively courting her to lower her defenses. Katie liked this game, thrilling at the feeling of power it gave her when another tortured groan echoed low in his throat. She grew bolder with her kiss. The next time when his tongue retreated, she followed, sweeping hers past his lips and entering his mouth. As she kissed him, Katie threaded her arms up around his neck, fingers slipping into the silky hair at his nape. Holy crap, he could kiss. No man had ever tasted so good. A soft moan escaped her on an exhale as she chased his tongue again, growing more daring—passion-drunk in the power of his kiss.
But then the game ended—abruptly and without warning. The growl that rumbled deep in Cole’s chest became raw and untethered. His fingers gripping the back of her neck tightened, sparking a flare of warning she quickly tamped down as curiosity, and feminine longing temporarily overruled her common sense. But in the next moment, Katie quickly discovered that the dominance she thought she had over Cole had been only a mirage. The vestiges of Cole’s control shattered like a stone thrown through untempered glass. His grip on her neck tightened—possessively—and before she could react, he pulled her up against his rock-hard body, shifted his head, and claimed her mouth in a searing kiss that stole every last bit of breath from her lungs. His tongue swept into her mouth, bold and dominating, conquering and possessive.
Katie froze as terror suddenly seized her heart. Instantly, she was ripped back into the past and it was no longer Cole’s kiss she tasted, but the whiskey-soured kiss of Carter’s mouth covering hers with punishing force. She tried to breathe past the choking grip he held on her throat, but could only draw small gasps of pungent air into her burning lungs.
“You ever try to leave me again and I’ll fucking kill you, bitch!” he snarled the words against her mouth as he drove into her with brutal, rutting thrusts. Carter wasn’t a small man, and he took delight in using his phallus as a weapon. Her sobs caught in her throat, choking off her last gasps of air as his grip on her trachea tightened. Black spots blurred her vision, the pressure in her head was excruciating, second only to the pain between her legs. Katie prayed for death, knowing it was her only chance of ever escaping this monster. As the darkness came, she welcomed it, anything to free her from of this living hell.
It took Cole longer to realize something was wrong than he wanted to admit. Fuck, he was such an ass. He’d been doing so well, keeping the grip on his self-control tightly in check. It’d been so perfect, the way she’d slowly but surely opened up to him—so tentative and shy at first. But then Katie had grown bolder with her kisses, and operation “Gain Katie’s Trust” had swiftly turned into a cluster-fuck of epic proportions.
She’d caught him off-guard with that toe-curling kiss that sent a blast of desire burning through his veins. The pressure coiling in the base of his cock strung him so tight, his balls began to ache. In the past, he’d been with more than his share of women, and none of them had ever snapped the leash of his restraint like Katrina Miller. He was always the one in control. Even when he let them believe they were in the driver’s seat, he was always the one with his foot on the gas and brakes—until Katie got behind the wheel. She stomped on his accelerator and cut the damn brake line before he’d even known what hit him. Holy hell, how could this have gone so wrong so fast? One minute she was kissing him like he was her very breath, and the next she wasn’t—breathing, that is.
Katie came awake on a startled gasp, and the terror he saw in those emerald orbs was like a roundhouse kick to the balls—which effectively deflated the cockstand he thought was going to take up permanent residence in his jeans. It was a good thing she was so damn small, or he would have had a hell of a time getting her to the sofa. After she’d passed out, Cole had tossed her over his shoulder, and using the one crutch he still had braced under his arm, carried Katie into the living room. He laid her on the sofa and sat down beside her. It was a tight fit, but he managed to squeeze in.
It took a moment for Katie’s vision to clear. Slowly, her eyes focused on him, and his panic receded, as did the knot fisting in his gut.
“What happened?” she asked, looking around as if she were trying to figure out how she’d gotten to the couch.
“That’s what I’d like to know.” Cole reached down to brush a chunk of hair from her face. She flinched at his touch and he dropped his hand, exhaling a frustrated sigh. “What happened, Katie?”
“Nothing,” she denied.
Which was a big fat lie. She tried to get up, and he planted his hand in the center of her chest, pressing her back down. He tried to ignore the way his palm molded between the deep valley of her breasts and the softness pillowed beneath his fingertips. “I’m not letting you up until you start being honest with me.”
Katie scowled, pinning him with a testy glare. If he were a praying man, he’d be saying a Hail Mary for his balls right now, because this woman looked as if she was about to lay some serious ground and pound on his nut sac.
“Let me up, Cole.”
Now this was the Katie he knew. The Kat the fighter in him admired—the woman who’d gotten under his skin. He much preferred her pissed off than frightened.
“What?” she snapped defensively. “What do you want me to say, Cole?”
“How about the truth?” he shot back, crossing his arms defiantly. If he had to bully her into telling him what the hell was going on, then so be it. It was for her own good. She shouldn’t have to deal with this alone.
“You want to know all the wretched details of my past. Is that it?” She let out a harsh bark of laughter that held a lot of held a lot of pain, pain he was surprised to feel centered in his gut. “Where should I start?”
“You could start by telling me his name.” So I know who I’m going to kill.
Exhaling a frustrated sigh of defeat, her deadpan gaze locked on his. “Carter Owens.”
Cole’s scowl twisted in confusion. “The football player?”
“Ex-football player. He was kicked out of the NFL a couple years ago for steroid and narcotic use.”
“You’re fucking kidding me.” This was the guy who was harassing her? Holy hell . . . when he’d asked for a name, he hadn’t actually thought he’d know of the guy. Cole reached up and scrubbed the back of his neck with his hand, trying to picture Katie with the athlete and not liking the images that conjured.
“Afraid not. I met Carter four years ago. He had a bad rotator cuff tear and was coming to me for PT. At first, he was kind and charming. We began dating. The first year was great. Things were going along fine and then he asked me to move in with him. Shortly after that, he began to change.”
There it was—short, sweet, and to the point. She moved to get up, apparently having decided sharing time was over. He pressed her back down, and she exhaled a sassy huff. “What, Cole? What do you want to know? Do you want me to tell you about how he used to hit me? About how many times I was in the Emergency Room with bruised and broken bones, telling lies that no one questioned because God forbid an NFL star could possibly be beating the shit out of his girlfriend, right?”
He winced as if he’d just taken a kidney punch. Hell no, that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. But he also knew she couldn’t continue to carry the weight of this burden alone. He’d pushed her past her breaking point, and if he let her off the hook now, there was a good chance he’d never get her to open up like this again. Cole’s jaw clenched as he locked his emotions down tight, refusing to give her the satisfaction of knowing how much hearing this was killing him. It’d only make her all the more justified in her struggle to hold on to her secrets and shut him out.
“Or maybe you’d rather hear about how I tried, time and time again, to get away, only to have him find me and drag me back home, and then punish me for trying to leave. Do you want to know about the sexual abuse he put me through? The degrading things he did to me?”
Of course not. He didn’t want to hear any of this fucking shit. His gut clenched with rage, each admission worse than the last. Her words were like an in
sidious poison, wrapping around his heart, squeezing the life out of him as his mind quickly filled in the sordid details of her confession.
“Or should we talk about how I had to leave my career, my friends, and my family to hide halfway across the United States in bumfuck nowhere until he finally gave up his search for me? Only he’s never really given up. He’ll never give up. Not until I’m dead!”
“Katie, stop.” Cole wasn’t sure if he wanted it to end for his own benefit or hers. Already, he’d never wanted to kill another man more in his life. But she wasn’t finished yet. He’d pushed her too far, and it was clear she intended to make sure he heard it all.
“Should I tell you about the fear that rips through my gut every time there’s a knock on my door?—or the ‘unavailable’ call on my cell?” Her voice hitched with mounting hysteria. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve changed my number and fled to a new city in the middle of the night because I was afraid he’d found me? Two years, Cole! I’ve been running for two years. I haven’t let a man touch me since I escaped him, and I vowed I never would again.”
He couldn’t help but wince at the accusation in her voice.
“You want to know what happened in there?” She pointed to the kitchen, and he felt another stab of guilt. “You kissed me, and I freaked out! That’s what happened. He’s broken me, Cole. I’m ruined.”
At her confession, he cupped her face in his hands, forcing her watery gaze to meet his stare. Tears slipped past her lids, running down her cheeks. He cursed softly, wiping away the wetness with his thumbs. “Kat, what happened in there was my fault. I lost control. I knew you were scared. I was arrogant and cocky. I thought I could handle you—but . . . goddamn, sweetheart, you just felt so good. And when you kissed me like that . . . I just lost it. ” He couldn’t believe he was telling her this. But then again, it was his fault things had gone down this way. He’d be damned if he sat here and let her take the blame for his fuckup.
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