Sweet Eternity

by Jessie Lane

  I didn’t know what scared me more in that moment: the thought of my father tracking us down and killing Lucas, or the chance of Lucas discovering the phone.

  The phone was a blessing and a curse. There was a good possibility that it might be my only chance of getting out of here without Lucas getting hurt, if I could only slip away and put some distance between us. If I didn’t manage to do that, there was no doubt in my mind that Dexter, or another of my father’s men, would come in here and put a bullet in Lucas’s head.

  My racing thoughts were cut short when Lucas continued to move unhurriedly as he descended until we were nose to nose, breathing each other’s air. My hands were now trapped between our bodies, and his forearms were holding his weight on either side of my head. This close, all I could see was the determined gleam in his beautiful hazel eyes.

  Anticipation over his next move was quickly killing me, and my breathing turned into short, rapid pants as he ran the tip of his nose down the bridge of mine. Once he reached the tip, he brushed it in the slightest, sweetest touch, and then whispered, “Ginny.”

  I couldn’t respond. At any given moment, my heart was going to explode. Only, I wasn’t sure if my heart would combust because of my fear of getting Lucas killed, or from being so close to the person I wanted most with every bone in my body yet knew I could never have. Thus, I simply lay there, savoring the warm cinnamon scent of his breath, waiting to see what he would do while my mind frantically searched for a MacGyver-like skill to get me out of this predicament.

  Sliding my eyes over to the nightstand, I took in the contents on the table: a rubber band and a paperclip. I wondered if my less than genius brain could use them in some sort of clever way to escape.

  When I didn’t respond to him because I was still staring at my less than stellar escape supplies, he clicked his tongue in admonishment. “Ginny, Ginny, Ginny … Oh, angel, don’t you know?”

  This question brought my attention back to him, glaring at him incredulously. What exactly did he think I should know? That he was almost as delusional as my father? If that was the case, then I could easily tell him the message was coming through loud and clear.

  Of course, Lucas never seemed to say what I expected him to, and this moment was no different.

  “I don’t need to take you home, angel. Can’t you see it? I am your home.”

  What? I didn’t need to ask Lucas to clarify, though. He just kept talking as he rubbed his nose alongside mine.

  “You belong with me, by my side. It’s where you were always meant to be. It took me too many years and mistakes to figure that out, and now that I have, I’m never making the mistake of letting you go again. So, prepare yourself, angel, because I’m a man on a mission, and my only objective is to show you that I will not let anything, or anyone, including ourselves, stand in the way of us being together ever again.”

  Lucas

  The Army never prepared me for this, nor did Special Forces or war. I was on top of the biggest emotional landmine … and I wasn’t sure I was going to survive the explosion.

  As I ran the tip of my nose across the tip of Ginny’s, savoring the feeling of her soft skin and the intimacy of the moment, I did my best to pull my shit together internally.

  Gin’s soft body pressed back against my own. I didn’t think she realized it, but her entire body was trembling from head to toe. It was the only tell she gave that she was lying through her pretty little teeth.

  Where had she learned to control her emotions like that?

  My gut churned with the possibilities of why she would need to learn that skill so completely.

  I expected that behavior from someone such as myself. The Army had made damn sure I was the most effective soldier they could possibly produce. That had been done through years of training and experience in hostile conditions.

  Why was the woman underneath me almost as good at masking her emotions as I was? Why would she ever need to develop such a talent, unless she had been in fear for herself?

  Just the notion of why was enough to almost lose my composure. I had to hold it together, though. Lying underneath me was an atomic bomb hidden in one tiny woman. One wrong move, and she was going to blow us to smithereens.

  Restraining the need to comfort her and stop her trembling, I pulled back until we were no longer breathing the same air and gazed into the blue eyes that had haunted me for years.

  Part of me was waiting for a response to the declaration I had just given her—that I was her home. The other part was ready to show her that she was just as much my home. My sanctuary, really. Now I had to show her that I could be her sanctuary, too. Keep her safe, loved.

  “Remember that tree in the field near our houses that you used to sit under and draw?”

  Her brows crinkled in confusion as she nodded once.

  “Now think about those days when we would sit there. You would draw, and I would sit there for hours, not saying a word, just watching you. Do you know why I did that?”

  Her features turned a little nervous as she silently shook her head.

  Bending down, I brushed my lips across hers as I said, “Because my whole world felt right when I sat there with you. We didn’t have to say a word; just had to sit there and let the world pass around us. You would be lost in your art … And, angel, I was always lost in you.”

  Ginny’s breath hitched.

  I didn’t give her a chance to say anything, not when I could feel her muscles relaxing. She was slowly giving in to me.

  With my right hand, I reached up and smoothed some of her hair between my finger and thumb. “The sun would filter through the leaves, making your hair glow like a halo around your beautiful face, and I would think I was the luckiest guy in the world right then to be sitting there with you.”

  Her eyes glassed over in emotion. Good, I was getting through my feisty angel’s barriers.

  Releasing her hair, I dragged a finger down her cheek. “These pretty pale cheeks would turn red whenever I caught you watching me out of the corner of your eye. I always knew you were embarrassed, but what you didn’t know was those little blushes were the fuel for my fantasies. I would imagine you flushed like that because I had kissed you breathless. I pictured you turning even more red as I touched you everywhere to make you feel good. I even dreamed of watching other parts of you blush like that because of our lovemaking.”

  Everything I told her was the truth. Not one exaggeration. So, as her little nipples hardened and pushed at the silk fabric of her shirt, rubbing against my chest with her increasingly rapid breathing, it felt like a shot of testosterone to my dick. My words were doing this to her, making her feel the raw edge of my emotions. Making her hot for the same touches I was telling her about.

  Running that same finger slowly over her plump bottom lip, I said, “And these lips … Damn, woman, how you killed me with these lips. You would be so lost in your art, lost to the world around you, as you put to paper what was in your head. And you would nibble on this lip. It made me think of you nibbling on other parts of me with these lips.”

  Ginny’s body arched into mine, a reaction that told me she wanted me physically, just as badly as I wanted her. Now I just had to make her realize she still wanted me that much emotionally, too.

  “You know what still is my favorite part of you, though?”

  She shook her head, still not uttering a word. Was she afraid the dam on her emotions would break if she opened her mouth, and she would give in to this connection that was inevitable between us?

  Languidly, as if we had all the time in the world, I traced my finger down to her chin, over her vulnerable throat I’d had in my hand moments ago, and over her collarbones. Her back arched off the bed again, and she tried to thrust her breast into my hand, but I lifted my palm, hovering it over her nipple. As much as I wanted to massage the fleshy orb, I had something more important to do.

  Ginny dropped her back to the bed again uncertainly, and with my eyes locked on hers, I slowly moved
my hand down, sliding it under the V-neck of her blouse. My fingers searched, finding the prize I sought.

  Her heart.

  To be more specific, her heartbeat, which was thumping strongly and steadily under my touch.

  “I love everything about you: the way you look, the way you talk, even the way you think. But the thing I love most is your heart. It’s the biggest, sweetest, most loyal one I’ve ever met. It’s why you told Rachel that you forgave her a week after she tried to embarrass you that day at school.” Gin’s heart was starting to race beneath my palm. “It’s why you put up with my denials, the hurt, and the space I put between us for years.”

  By the end of my sentence, her heart was damn near thundering, giving me all the indication I needed that she was hearing every word.

  “It’s why you kept yours and your mother’s secret for years upon years. It’s also why I know, with every bone in my body, that you don’t really want to go back to your father. But for some reason, you feel like you have to.”

  A lone tear slipped from the corner of her left eye and trailed down the side of her face.

  “I know you don’t want to marry that fuckwad, because your heart has always belonged to me … even when I was too stupid to do right by it.”

  Another tear fell, and I was sure I was almost through that emotional stonewall she had erected between us.

  “Just like I also know, as much as I hurt you, you never stopped loving me. And I know that without a doubt because I never stopped loving you, either. You and me, we’re the sort of stuff they write romance novels about, baby. Because anyone with two eyes and half a brain can see we’re meant to be together.”

  Gin sniffed as more tears started to fall.

  “When all of this is said and done, I’m going to take you back to that tree so we can sit there together again. So you can sit in my arms the way you should have then and feel what I felt back then. The rest of the world can go to hell around us, but as long as I have you, I have my home. And I refuse to ever be homeless without the shelter of your love ever again.”

  Chapter

  2

  Ginny

  The promise of what could be was holding me tightly, making me feel safe in his arms. He gave me his warmth through soft, reassuring touches, mixed with the strength of his arms surrounding me. His embrace was a silent promise of many things I had longed for over the years: love, safety, hope. A small sample of something so sweet it almost made me forget what the sour things in my life tasted like. It reminded me of how my mother had tried to teach me about the philosophy of making lemonade out of lemons.

  Of course, nothing good could last forever.

  The bitter reality of my hell chose that exact moment to literally chime in.

  My phone started to ring in my pocket, popping the illusion of sanctuary Lucas had almost had me believing in.

  His eyes bore into mine, his eyebrows low and angry, and his jaw was clenched so hard it was a miracle he didn’t grind his teeth to dust.

  Not saying a word, he ran his right hand down the side of my waist, hugging the slight curve of my hips until he felt the small lump of the ringing phone. Then, running his fingers over the area, he found the concealed pocket opening and slipped his hand in the confined space to pull out my cell phone.

  He brought the hand holding my phone up between us then held it off to the side of our faces, only pulling his eyes away from mine for a second to look at the screen. That second was all it took to make those gorgeous hazel eyes of his go from promises of hope to a cold, determined glower.

  I felt my own hope drain away, leaving nothing but grim determination to make Lucas see the validity of why he needed to leave me alone. After all, my father certainly never would.

  I didn’t see his finger move, but he must have accepted the call and put it on speakerphone, since the next thing I heard was the frigid, precise tone of my father’s voice.

  “Virginia, once this is over, if I find out you had anything to do with this, there will be severe consequences.”

  Fear sliced deep inside of me as I imagined all the ways he might punish me … or my mother. That was why I couldn’t be with the man I loved. That was why I had to convince Lucas to let me walk away.

  Of course, knowing my father, I probably wouldn’t need to spend much more time trying to convince the man whose body covered my own of anything. Richard Wellington wouldn’t tip his hand by making a phone call unless his men were already in position.

  The thought of Dexter or one of my father’s other goons coming into this room and killing Lucas was like a knife to my heart. I needed to quickly get him out of here.

  I opened my mouth to respond to my father’s chilling directive when Lucas cut me off.

  “Ginny didn’t have a damn thing to do with this, so you can take your threats and shove them up your ass, buddy.”

  Lucas must have taken my father by surprise, because he was silent for at least a minute before he finally responded with, “To whom am I speaking?”

  I watched as Lucas rolled his eyes before answering, “The fucking Easter Bunny.”

  My jaw dropped open in shock. No one spoke to Richard Wellington that way and lived! Did the man have a death wish? He had to be acting this way because he didn’t realize the sort of danger he was courting here. I had to get him out of here before Lucas found out exactly how deadly and unforgiving my father could be.

  Pushing my hands against his chest, I tried to shove him off me. Unfortunately, the man was made of muscle and was as unmovable as a freaking boulder. He must have thought I might accomplish something, though, because he quickly repositioned himself to straddle my hips again.

  Frustrated and scared, I started to snap his name, “Lu—” but I quickly found myself muffled by his hand.

  Lucas shook his head in warning as he glared down at me.

  It wasn’t until my father spoke that I realized why he had shut me up.

  “Lou, is it? Who are you, Lou? Why exactly have you taken my daughter?”

  Crappity crap, crap. I had almost given my father Lucas’s name! With even the smallest piece of information, Richard Wellington could tie him back to the boy and his family I had once lived across the street from. How stupid could I get?

  Overwhelmed by the enormity of the mistake I had almost made and the consequences it could have had on the Youngs, a tear slipped from my eye.

  Lucas watched its path down the side of my face, while continuing the conversation through the phone in his hand.

  “What makes you think I took her? Maybe she came with me because she wanted to.”

  A subtle yet rapid tap-tap-tap sounded through the line, and in my mind, I could see my father seesawing his pen between his fingers, letting the tips hit the top of his desk. A small but common sign that he was losing his patience.

  “Let’s not play games here. I know you took her. The traffic cameras gave me the perfect footage of you shooting the three men she was traveling with, then dragging her out of the vehicle.”

  Lucas cocked his left eyebrow. “Should I turn on the television to watch myself on the nine o’clock news?” The question was asked calmly, but I could see calculations going on behind those hazel eyes. He was extracting information and plotting.

  The tapping in the background ceased. “I assure you, Lou, the police are the least of your concerns. You should concentrate on the more immediate threats in your future, such as myself. So, let us put all this chitchat aside and get back to the heart of the matter. You have my daughter, and I want to know why you took her.”

  Lucas didn’t move his hand from my mouth, but he did take his attention off me to start looking around the room. His first glance was at the windows behind him. The way he watched the semi-open blinds in front of the glass almost had me wondering if he had x-ray vision.

  I couldn’t help wondering if he was thinking about trying to walk us out that front door. I didn’t have half the specialized military training he’d had in the A
rmy, yet even I knew that would be a bad idea. More than likely, one of my father’s men was waiting for us out there.

  Lucas then scanned the room as if he were looking for something. I had no idea what, though. Was he thinking of some sort of tactical crap they had taught him in the Special Forces? If he tried to go Rambo on me, whipping out guns or explosives to blow our way out of here, I would totally flip my shit on him. Or perhaps he was thinking similar thoughts as the ones I had earlier about using menial objects, such as a rubber band and paperclip to make a distraction like MacGyver.

  Looking up at Lucas’s scheming gaze, I could see that time in the Special Forces had honed the wily boy I had once known into an intelligent man. That didn’t mean I trusted him to get us past someone like Dexter with a freaking rubber band. And that didn’t stop me from watching his every move as I tried to decipher the thorough scan he was giving to our surroundings.

  Of course, trying to figure out what he was up to became completely inconsequential after my panicked brain registered what he was saying to my father.

  “Because I wanted to.”

  My eyes bugged out of my head. What was he thinking, talking to my father like that? Had he lost his freaking mind?

  My father didn’t respond right away. Instead, he was so quiet I could hear a cricket chirping in our hotel room. Clearly, I wasn’t the only one surprised by his answer.

  In a sad, desperate thought, I sort of wished I could be that cricket right now and just hop away from this whole mess.

  When my father’s voice finally came back through the speaker, I winced at his tone. He might have sounded relatively calm to Lucas, but from the way he enunciated every word, I knew the man was ready to start killing.

  “Tell me who you work for and why you took my daughter, and I will make sure your death is quick. If you do not tell me what I want to know, I am going to have you tortured in ways you could never dream were possible.”

  Lucas rolled his eyes then glanced back at the front door, never taking the pressure off my body. “Really? Torture? I’m shaking in my boots, buddy.”