Protecting Rayne

by Emily Bishop

  “Harder. Faster,” I pant.

  This appears to be the only encouragement he needs, because he picks up his pace and his pressure, and I might explode with pleasure. With each thrust, the tip of his dick tickles my g-spot, and my body prepares for release. Still, he goes harder, his grunts absorbing into the trees around us as I pant and writhe and beg him for more.

  His hand leaves my ass and slides between us until it reaches my clit. The moment his thumb touches that sensitive little nub, all bets are off. I scream into the night. My body pulses around his throbbing dick, and still he pumps into me, seeking his own release.

  He keeps his hand on my sensitive clit, torturing me as he continues on. My body seizes up and then another orgasm crashes through me as he finishes.

  I collapse against him, the water of the hot springs sloshing between us as we fight to catch our breath. Our bodies remain joined as we relax beneath the stars, and I rest my cheek against his expansive chest. I could lie here forever in this natural spring, joined with Lorn.

  “Are you scared now?” he breathes against my ear.

  “With you? Never.”

  He lifts his head and kisses me. His palms cradle my face in a cherishing gesture, and I relish the sensation. With a swift motion, Lorn pulls out of me, and I can’t help the pang of disappointment and the emptiness that remains in its place.

  “I’ll always keep you safe, Rayne,” he breathes as he pulls me close again.

  Shit. We can’t use words like “always” when I’m planning on leaving in a few weeks, can we? Am I really reading into that right now when I should be basking in this amazing experience?

  I allow myself to be protected as I lean back and stare at the sky. “This is outstanding. Great idea.”

  “Perhaps we can do it again sometime,” he says, and his tone is impish. I can’t help my own grin.

  “Perhaps we can.”

  A yawn escapes my lips, and I stifle it. Perceptive as ever, Lorn doesn’t miss a beat.

  “Time for bed. We’ve already been up late enough as it is.”

  He leaps from the water and pulls a towel from the bag, shoves his clothing inside as he wraps it around himself, then slides into his shoes. He holds up the other towel for me.

  “Shall we?” he asks.

  I jump out of the water. My body goes cold, and I wrap myself in the towel, still painfully aware of my lack of shoes. Lorn kneels and scoops me back up. He slings his bag over his shoulder and carries me all the way back to the back door of the cabin. When we step inside, we are warm and relaxed and fully sated.

  He doesn’t set me down until we reach his bedroom, where he tosses back his comforter and slides me beneath it. Without a word, he lays behind me and cradles me in the circle of his arms. I have absolutely no protest.

  Together we fall asleep, the subtle scent of the hot springs soothing as I drift off in Lorn’s powerful embrace.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Lorn

  When I wake up, Rayne’s soft body is pressed trustingly against mine. For the first time, I don’t feel lustful having her naked and pressed against me. I am content simply to hold her.

  Oh no.

  My stomach sinks. I’m letting myself get in too deep. She rolls over and cuddles closer to me. The room outside the bed is far too cold, and we nestle in our warm little nest as the world grows lighter outside.

  Rayne blinks one eye open, then looks up at me. Her lips curl into a sexy smile, and I rethink that whole not-feeling-lustful thing.

  “Good morning,” she purrs. She reaches her arms above her head in a languid stretch, then seems to realize that she’s naked in my bed. A small blush blossoms across her cheeks.

  She’s so cute when she’s bashful.

  Her blissful expression fades, replaced by a small frown, and my eyebrows narrow.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  She inhales and releases the breath with pursed lips. “Larry.”

  I’m determined to help her get answers, to get some peace of mind. We could be buying into a game that doesn’t even exist, but if it does, we need to know what we’re up against. “Get dressed. We’re going out.”

  “Where?” she asks.

  “Somewhere you can get the reception you need. Do you know anyone who might be able to help you track Larry down?”

  She nods. “My assistant Helen might. She can at least get us some numbers of some folks who might be able to help, maybe.”

  I nod. That’s enough of a lead, for now. “Then let’s give Helen a call.”

  Rayne’s gaze is grateful as she slides from my bed. She pads naked out of my room, and I nearly chase after her. One glimpse of that round, beautiful ass has me aching for more. My fingertips long to brush along that smooth skin. I know better, though.

  She’s in no mood for sex. What we need now is action.

  I change into a fresh pair of jeans and a thick sweater, then walk out into the living room. Sadly, Rayne has dressed, and she’s taking a sip from a glass of water while she waits for me to emerge.

  “Ready?” I ask.

  She holds up her phone and waves it in the air. “Full battery. Now I need a full signal.”

  “I can find one of those,” I say. We strap back into our boots and don hats and gloves. It’s a bit of a trek to where we need to be, and I want to make sure we have everything we need.

  “Let’s go then,” I say. Rayne says nothing as she falls in step behind me. Both of us are ready to get some answers, any answers.

  I set off in the direction of a trail with clean, untouched snow. I stomp a path for Rayne to follow, but with the amount of snow, it’s slow going. We don’t speak during this trip. I can tell that Rayne’s mind is buzzing, seeking answers I wish I had.

  We reach the base of a small mountain, and I pave the way up the incline. It’s not terribly steep, but conditions aren’t ideal for this kind of thing without the proper gear. While Rayne’s hiking boots are trendy, they aren’t the most practical. Still, she soldiers on behind me without complaint. We hike up the incline for another thirty minutes before we reach the top.

  All around us, mountain peaks jut up into the sky, which is still a hazy gray color. Another storm system is almost upon us, and as if on cue, a snowflake lands on the tip of my nose. We’ll have to take even more care on the way down.

  “Check your phone,” I say.

  I turn and watch as Rayne pulls her cell phone out of her pocket and holds it up. Behind her, I catch a bird’s eye view of the lake far below, glimmering in the distance.

  Rayne’s eyes light up. “Two bars! Hallelujah!”

  Before she can unlock her phone, the device beeps like crazy, and Rayne’s eyes harden as she watches the screen.

  “What the…”

  I take a step closer and glance down at the screen. A myriad of messages pop up as well as about a hundred missed calls and the same number of voicemails.

  “Are you always this popular?” I ask.

  When she looks up at me, her gaze is troubled. “No. I’m not. Not a lot of people have this phone number. The texts are from Helen, but let me check one of her voicemails first.”

  She presses a few buttons and then touches the button to place the voicemail on speaker. A woman’s panicked voice pours from the phone.

  “Rayne, please answer. Please answer! Oh god. I bet you don’t have signal, and I can’t find a phone number for this place. Listen, if you get this, my apartment was broken into. Someone stole my laptop. There’s a chance…” Her voice chokes up. She releases a sob. “Oh god. There’s a chance that he might know where you are, Rayne. Every detail about your trip is on that computer, in my records.”

  The message ends with Helen crying into the phone, then silence.

  Rayne’s shoulders are tense as she exits out of the voicemails and reads through her massive pile of texts.

  “No,” she breathes.

  “What? What is it?”

  It takes everything in me not to te
ar the phone from her hands, to read through the messages myself. Her expression is haunted as she looks up at me.

  “It’s him. It has to be. There is a whole trail here, where Helen got robbed, then she got the authorities involved but they couldn’t find any prints. A skill he could have easily picked up in prison, if not before. It all adds up. Nobody else would rob her for that computer. They’d have to know there’s information about my whereabouts on it.”

  Her voice rises in pitch as she talks. She’s on the brink of totally losing it. She jabs her phone with her finger and presses it against her ear. In the quiet of the mountaintop a phone rings.

  “Rayne!” Helen’s voice jumps from the phone.

  Rayne’s tone completely changes. “Helen. I haven’t had signal. I got all your messages. I’m sorry to have worried you.”

  “I’m so glad to hear your voice. I thought surely…”

  Rayne’s eyes meet mine, and I can tell that her tone is a ruse. She’s freaking out, but by her voice you would never guess.

  It’s an impressive display of self-control. I’ll give her that.

  “What did the cops say when you brought them in?” Rayne asks.

  “I tried to tell them of your suspicions. That Larry Corker wants revenge on you. They rolled their eyes at me, Rayne.”

  Helen cries again, and Rayne’s shoulders tense a little more, if that’s possible.

  “Helen, don’t panic. I’ve got help up here. We’re going to be fine. Are you OK?”

  “I think so. I’m so sorry, Rayne.”

  “Helen, you have nothing to apologize for, do you hear me? You keep safe down there, and I’ll work with the authorities up here. Everything is going to be fine.”

  Helen sniffles through the phone. “I hope so. I’m so scared for you, Rayne.”

  “I’m not,” she says, and her gaze lands on mine. “I’ve got good help on my side.”

  She may sound convincing, but there’s doubt in her face. She spends another minute or so consoling Helen, assuring her that she’ll be fine, and then she ends the call. When she does, I prepare to catch her. She slumps like she’s about to collapse. I reach out and grip her forearms to hold her steady.

  “Nice act,” I say.

  “I’m so screwed. He’s after me. Just like he promised. Just like he always said he would be.”

  “Rayne, it’s going to be fine.”

  When she meets my gaze, her eyes are wide with terror. “It’s going to be OK? Have you ever had the threat of a murderer chasing you half your life? I’ve seen some things, Lorn. I’m not going to be fine. I’m going to be dead, just like my father!” Tears leak from her eyes and stream down her cheeks.

  I force her to look at me. “Rayne, listen to me. I do know what it’s like, on some level. You think a man like my father didn’t have enemies? I didn’t let it alter the way I lived my life, though. I didn’t let them win. Don’t let Larry win. The more you let fear dictate your life, the greater his victory. Don’t!”

  “I’m not like you, Lorn. I’m not a giant of a man. I can’t intimidate people away from me. It’s totally different.”

  “No, it is not different. You are tough as hell. You are a survivor. Your father died, but you lived. Don’t let that fact be in vain. What would your father want you to do?”

  That jars her a bit. She steps back, and her gaze shoots wildly around the mountains. “He would want me to live my life, to be happy. To be content.”

  “And how long since you’ve been any of those things?”

  Another fat tear falls from Rayne’s eyes. It’s rough, but she’s not listening to gentle.

  I take a step closer. “You are in charge of your own life. It’s about time you lived it, don’t you think?”

  She crosses her arms around her middle, like somehow that will hold her broken pieces together. “How can I, when the police won’t believe me?” she whispers.

  I hold out my hand for her phone. “Now that is a problem I can help solve.”

  She stares up at me in confusion, but she hands over the phone. I dial the sheriff’s private number as the snow picks up around us, the wind swirling in a series of tiny torrents.

  “Sherriff Grange. What seems to be the trouble?”

  “Roger. It’s Lorn.”

  “Lorn! What’s going on? You having trouble up at the cabin?”

  “A bit. I have a guest here who has reason to believe that she’s been followed by a dangerous man. City authorities aren’t taking her seriously…”

  That’s the magic set of words.

  Roger huffs into the phone. “City police. Humph! What do they know? They have so much crime they can’t see a real criminal when he looks them in the face. We’ll look into this, Lorn, don’t you worry.”

  “Great,” I say. It’s good to get some backup.

  “Problem is, storm’s blowing in. We won’t be able to make it up the mountain until it dies down.”

  “I understand.”

  “Can you hold down the fort until then?”

  “Of course. I always do.”

  “Look out for yourself, Lorn. And do you have any information on this stalker?”

  I tell him Larry’s name and background, at least what I know from Rayne’s stories.

  “Great, that’s helpful. We’ll do a background check here and see what we can find. Until we can get up, take every precaution.”

  “I will. Thanks, Roger.”

  “You bet.”

  The phone call ends and I look at Rayne. Her skin has gone ghostly white, and she collapses to the ground.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Rayne

  I can’t breathe.

  My whole body shivers as I curl up in a ball on the ground and fight for air. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realize that I’m hyperventilating. Lorn towers above me, but I can barely hear him. His voice sounds like it’s coming through a wind tunnel.

  “Rayne! Rayne, breathe! Focus on your breath. I need you to focus for me, Rayne.”

  He sits on the ground and tugs me into his arms, cradling me as he tries his best to calm me down. Images of Larry’s sneering face float along my vision. My father is dead on the floor. I see myself standing with my hands out, covered in blood. Some of the images never even happened. They are simply the stuff of my nightmares.

  My horrible, terrible nightmares.

  “Rayne, I need you to focus on my voice now. I need to you focus on inhaling and exhaling. Forget everything around us except for your breathing and the sound of my voice.”

  He sounds so authoritative.

  “Are you listening, Rayne? I want you to breathe in and out. Count your breaths until they come back, until you don’t even realize you’re doing it. Let’s count together. One…”

  His voice soothes me. I want to do as he asks. Larry’s face dissolves into darkness as I squeeze my eyes shut and count every breath with Lorn. We make it to twenty before I’m breathing normally again, but my whole body is stiff as a corpse.

  Perhaps the corpse I will soon become.

  I cry then. A good, solid cry. I cry for my mother, the woman who left me to pursue her own dreams. I cry for my father, whose life was cut too short. I cry for myself, the orphan forced to watch her father die. There are so many tears that I’ve held back for so long. My whole life.

  Lorn holds me as my tears sink into his jacket. He rocks back and forth in an attempt to soothe me, and I can tell that he’s worried. I don’t need to look into his face to see it. I would be worried, too, if a woman completely lost her marbles on a mountaintop. He strokes the top of my head as though I’m a small child. I should probably be offended, but I’m grateful.

  Lorn’s touch is a salve that soothes my tortured soul.

  I release a shuddering breath as I try and pull myself together. Lorn says nothing as he continues to hold me close, the snow falling in sheets all around us now.

  “I’m… I’m sorry,” I whisper.

  He tightens his grip
around me. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” He has so much conviction in his voice I almost believe him.

  “I thought I would be safe, getting away, but it’s clear that I’ll never be safe. Not until I die, probably by his hand,” I breathe.

  Lorn slides his finger beneath my chin then and forces me to look at him. “Listen to me. Nothing bad is going to happen to you while I have breath in my body. Not now. Not ever. Do you understand?”

  He sounds so certain. I remember when I felt certainty about things. That was a blissful time, about twelve years ago. When he holds my gaze, I nod. He wants me to agree, to tell him that I believe in his ability to keep me safe.

  Then again, maybe I do. Who better than this beautiful monolithic man to protect me? Still, I remind myself that Lorn is a socialite. What does he know about self-defense?

  Oh, right. Prison.

  There is a toughness to Lorn that does not come from the ivory towers in New York, but the wild cages of a jail enclosure. Lorn has seen things I can never imagine, and still he holds his head high.

  Lorn glances up and around us. The snow is picking up. It’s not a blizzard, but the heavy flakes certainly make it difficult to see. “We need to get back home,” he says.

  I think about walking the thirty minutes back down this mountain. The thought is less than appealing. Without missing a beat, Lorn slides his arm beneath my knees and lifts me up.

  “Lorn. It’s a thirty-minute walk down a slick mountain. I… I can make it on my own.” Even to my own ears I don’t sound convincing.

  Lorn shakes his head, and a smattering of snowflakes dislodges and falls to the ground. “Not a chance. I’m carrying you down, and I don’t want to hear another protest about it.”

  A wisp of a smile tugs at my lip at his protective tone. “Or you’ll what?” I ask.

  He glances down at me. I can still see worry in his eyes, but there’s a tiny glint of humor. I feel a little more human the more we talk. “Or I’ll have to kiss you until you stop talking.”

  “Is that supposed to be a threat? Now I want to protest more.”

  He dips his head and kisses me, his lips whisper-soft against mine. When he lifts his head, he starts walking down the mountain. His eyes stay on the path, presumably keeping an eye out for slick spots as he carefully winds his way down with me still in his arms.