They tore up the narrow dirt road, raising a plume of dust around them. Leigh closed her eyes. She slid her hands wantonly over his bare skin. Nothing had ever felt this incredible. He was hard planes and supple skin and she was breathing fast and shallow when he pulled the bike into a copse of trees and stopped. He came off the bike in a smooth motion, then whisked her off before she knew what he was doing. She stood on legs of rubber as he crushed her against his body. His mouth sought hers in a kiss that demanded a total response.
And she gave it, kissing him back with a fervor that astonished the tiny portion of her brain still functioning. She felt branded as his tongue plunged into her mouth, mimicking an action her body seemed to crave. He tasted of cigarettes and beer, with a subtle hint of peppermint, of all things.
It took her several seconds to realize tiny, animal sounds of need were issuing from her throat. She couldn’t get enough of the feel and taste of him. She wanted more. Her body seemed to be catapulting her toward some precipice, demanding that she hurry.
She uttered a small cry of protest when he pulled back. His eyes gleamed, dark and hot and wild like the night. His teeth glinted in the dancing moonlight as he smiled.
“Slow down, baby, we’ve got all the time in the world.”
But she couldn’t slow down. She wanted to scream at him to hurry. Yet the only sound she seemed capable of making was a ridiculous, yearning whimper. He yanked a blanket from his saddlebag and spread it in the clearing. Her brain felt muzzy and disoriented, yet the incredible need continued to build inside her, overwhelming conscious thought.
“You’re going to burn me alive, looking at me like that.”
Yes! Exactly! She was burning with a need only he could satisfy. “Hurry. Please.”
He grinned wickedly. “I intend to do both.”
His mouth claimed hers in a hot, wet duel as he drew them down on the thin blanket. Every fiber of her was on fire. Grass pricked at her skin through the thin material, acting as yet another spur to the incredible tension stretching inside her.
Leigh never felt his deft fingers bare her breasts to the night sky. She was lost in a tidal wave of sensations that pushed her ever closer to the waiting precipice. Then his mouth closed over one nipple. She free-fell in shudders of exhilaration.
Dimly, she heard his sound of satisfaction. “Sing for me, baby.”
She should have been mortified to know he watched her lose control. But he gave her no time to recover. Using that incredibly talented mouth, he set about igniting the fire all over again. Her mouth, the sensitive skin of her throat, nibbling on an earlobe until she quivered. With a low sound of satisfaction, he set a new path with his lips, placing light kisses along her throat, her collarbone, her breast, until he could draw the nipple deeply into his mouth. Her body arched in supplication.
A tiny kernel of sanity watched in stunned amazement as she went completely wild, tearing at his clothing, covering his skin with kisses and tiny nips that elicited surprise and a few startled groans of pleasure. Somehow they were both nude. It was shocking, yet intensely exciting. His lips forged a new path down her tummy and lower still. He paused, his breath stirring the hairs at the junction of her legs, making her moan in anticipation. Then he settled there, his mouth doing incredibly naughty things she’d only read about, until now.
He chuckled as her hands strained to touch him, this incredible, fascinating shadowy shape in the dark. He assumed the role of teacher as he showed her untutored body how to please them both. The wild clamoring filled her once more and she wondered if she’d gone mad.
Finally, he stretched out over her. Butter soft, yet uncompromisingly hard. Their sweat-slicked skin came together and he claimed her with one hard thrust. He swallowed her shocked cry with his mouth. The stab of pain was almost immediately lost in the extraordinary sense of fullness.
She thought she heard him swear, but when she began to move against him, he shuddered and began to move as well, withdrawing, almost completely, only to surge against her once more, faster, harder, perfect.
Leigh was beyond words, beyond thought. She clenched around him, demanding more insistently as she pushed her body against his. With a curse and a groan, he began to move, harder, faster, deeper. The pleasure returned, driving her toward some incredible goal until the world exploded in a pleasure beyond description.
“WAKE UP. Damn it, Hayley, wake up.”
Confused, her mind tried to make sense of the masculine voice and the hand shaking her none too gently.
“I’m Leigh,” she muttered, unable to lift her heavy eyelids. The shaking sensation stopped. She felt the hard rocky ground at her back. Vaguely, she wondered if she’d ever stop trembling.
Gavin cursed again. She should say something, but it was far too difficult to battle the fatigue pressing shut her eyes.
Something wet covered her face. She batted uselessly at the cloth, but hands pinned her arms over her head to the blanket. She blinked as the cloth fell away, trying to make out his features in the dark.
“That’s it. Snap out of it. How much did you have to drink?”
The rough demand reached past the haze. “One. Beer.”
He swore viciously. “Are you lying?”
“Never. Lie. So tired.”
“You’re drugged.”
The words ripped at the curtain fogging her mind. “No.”
“Hell, yes,” he said grimly. “Open your eyes and look at me!”
“Stop swearing!” She blinked open blurry eyes, battling the residual haze shrouding her brain. Gavin was holding her down. She tried to remember why that was all wrong.
“That’s it, fight back.” One hand let her go. Her head lolled to the side. It was so hard to keep her eyes open. His hand slid beneath the tangle of her hair, cupping the back of her head. The tingling sensations were starting all over. There was something incredibly sensual in the touch of that large hand against her scalp.
“Sit up, come on. That’s it. Open your eyes, Leigh.”
She struggled to obey. He was the sexiest man she’d ever seen. “Fantasy man,” she whispered.
Gavin cursed. “We’ll see how you feel about that tomorrow. Here, swallow this.”
A bottle of liquid was thrust to her lips. It clicked against her teeth, but he gave her no chance to protest. Warm water dribbled down her chin, but some of the fluid made it down her parched throat. The water had a chemical taste, like bottled water that had been sitting in a hot car too long. She choked. Her stomach roiled in protest. Feebly, she tried to push aside his hand.
“Drink some more.”
“I’m going to be sick.”
“That’s the idea. We need to get that drug out of your system.”
To her acute mortification, he held her while her stomach made good on the threat. He continued holding her gently even after she was reduced to dry heaves. Almost tenderly, he pulled aside the heavy mass of her hair and rubbed her bare back as if she were a child.
Weak and spent, she let him. Desperately, her brain tried to make sense of it all.
“Take another sip.”
“I’ll throw up again.”
“Swish it around in your mouth and spit it out. Don’t swallow it. I know it’s warm, but it’s the only water I have with me.”
She obeyed, totally ashamed as memory played back the things they’d done. He let her go and fished in his pocket. She heard the crinkle of paper as Gavin unwrapped something and handed it to her.
“It’s okay. It’s a peppermint hard candy. It will take the taste out of your mouth.”
His expression was so sweet she wanted to cry. The candy had an odd taste on her tongue.
“Think you can get back on the bike?”
“Bike?”
Memory trickled past. A wild ride. Wanton need. Her breasts were bare, the nipples hard, but tender and sore. The rest of her body was equally bare. Moonlight peered through the trees overhead to dapple her skin. She focused on his face, horror growing
as images ghosted through her mind.
“Did we…? Were we…?”
His features hardened, making her flinch.
“Were we intimate? Oh, yeah, baby. We were as intimate as it gets.”
His finger lightly traced her collarbone. She had a memory of his lips doing the same. Leigh trembled—hard.
“How much do you remember?”
The knot that formed in her stomach threatened to turn her inside out.
“I don’t… I’m not sure.”
Lifting her chin, Gavin forced her to meet his eyes.
“Tell me you weren’t a virgin.”
She lost the battle with her stomach once more. He turned her head in time as her insides twisted in an attempt to escape. Dry heaves wracked her. Gavin swore, but he held her until she finally sagged against his chest, utterly spent. His shirt smelled of cigarette smoke and fabric softener. That he was fully dressed while she was naked made it all the worse somehow. His hands were gentle as he wiped her face, tucking her hair behind her ear.
“Let’s get you dressed.”
She tried, but her fingers were useless. He skipped the bra and panties and helped her with her sister’s blouse.
“Can you stand?”
She wasn’t sure. Gavin didn’t give her a choice. Her body still vibrated in reaction to his touch as he slid the jeans back up her legs. Her stomach fluttered helplessly at the feel of his fingers trying to fasten the snap. She stepped into her brand-new deck shoes while he held her so that she didn’t fall over. Tugging her toward the large black motorcycle, he lifted her up, settling her in place.
“Hold on to me.”
A flashback of her hands roaming his bare skin hit her with electric force. Leigh closed her eyes, fighting tears of shame. She didn’t open them until the bike stopped. Helplessly, she gazed at the dark building of Wickert’s garage.
“What are we doing here?”
“I have a key and I know the alarm system. I thought you’d want to clean up before I took you home.”
Home. She had no home. Not anymore. Only an empty house where people waited without hope.
Her stomach knotted. She wanted to cry. His features were harsh. She swallowed her tears, feeling mortified and ashamed.
She barely recognized herself in the mirror of the ladies’ room. Her hair hung about her face in tangled strands. Her eyes were huge dark pits against the ghostly white pallor of her skin. Streaks of mascara gave her a raccoon appearance, and there was more than one dark bruise forming on the skin of her neck. Leigh remembered his mouth there and whimpered. The temperature could have been below freezing instead of the high seventies she knew it to be even at this hour of the night.
Holding the comb he’d thrust into her hand after unlocking the door, she sank onto the dirty tile floor and sobbed until there were no tears left. Shame paralyzed her. How could she go back out there and face him?
He claimed she’d been drugged, but that didn’t matter. Neither did the fact that she’d had a crush on him since she was fifteen. What mattered was that she’d given her virginity to a man who couldn’t even tell her apart from her sister.
Given? She’d practically demanded that he take her.
And that was more demeaning than all the rest.
His knock on the door brought her scrambling to her feet. She brushed at her tear-stained face.
“Are you okay in there?”
“Yes.” It came out as a croak of sound. Her voice was thick from crying. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Do you need anything?”
Her mother. She would have given anything she possessed to have her mother here beside her right this minute.
“I’ll be out in a minute,” she repeated.
Leigh waited until she heard him move away from the door. Splashing water on her face, she used the rough paper towels to rub fiercely at her face, trying to remove all traces of her smeared makeup. Her sister’s blouse was buttoned all wrong and her fingers still didn’t want to cooperate, but finally, she managed that small task. Trying to tame her hair with his comb proved impossible.
She tried not to think about the marks on her skin or the puffy appearance of her lips, or the strange, small ache between her legs and elsewhere. She could smell him on her skin, and still feel him pulsing inside her. And the shaking started again in earnest, because she still wanted him. It was all she could do to pull herself together and exit the ladies’ room.
Gavin came away from the dirty wall with a primitive grace she still found compelling. Worse, a part of her longed for him to pull her into his arms and hold her. She needed to hear that things were going to be okay, that he wasn’t disgusted with her. But he made no move to touch her and his stern expression was angry.
With her?
“Come into the office. I made some tea.”
“Tea?” There was a surreal feel to everything.
“Mrs. Walken claims tea with sugar is good for shock. I suspect we both need a cup. Besides, the coffeemaker’s broken again, so it’s tea or soda.”
“I’m not thirsty.”
“Drink it anyway.”
She was so cold inside, she didn’t think even a gallon of hot tea would help. She’d probably just embarrass herself further by vomiting it right back up. Leigh looked quickly away from the cookies he’d bought from the vending machine.
“Try to eat one. We need to give your system something to absorb besides the drug.”
A protest formed in her head, but she blocked the words before they could slip past. Sipping tea and nibbling on a cookie gave her something to do, a focus other than looking at him.
“What were you doing at that party?”
Leigh cringed. “I went with Nolan.”
“Ducort?” he asked in obvious disbelief. “What’s a kid like you doing with a creep like that?”
Forcing herself to meet his eyes she said simply, “He asked me out.”
Gavin muttered something under his breath. A pulse in his neck began to throb. He looked as if he wanted to hit someone. She cringed. Instantly, his features transformed, softening.
“Listen to me, Leigh, I’m sorrier than I can say about what happened. I swear I didn’t recognize you at first or I would have taken you straight home.”
She swallowed the hurt, refusing to cry in front of him. The old desk chair she’d sat down on squeaked in protest. “Thanks a lot,” she managed to say.
Gavin didn’t seem to hear her. “You are not to blame. Do you understa—”
Leigh stood so fast that the cookies scattered across the desktop. “Don’t you dare patronize me. I’m not twelve.”
“At least tell me I didn’t seduce a minor.”
“It was consensual sex, not seduction,” she told him, shaking from head to toe.
“You were drugged,” he said bluntly. “And you were a virgin.”
“Well, I don’t have to worry about that problem anymore, now, do I?”
Headlights bathed the interior of the gas station. A car was pulling up out front.
“Your sister’s here.”
Horrified, she stared at him. “You called my house?”
“No, I called the Walkens. I wanted advice before we go to the police.”
She gaped at him. “We aren’t going to the police!”
“You were drugged. Don’t you understand? Ducort slipped something in your drink. He intended to rape you. Only, I got to you first,” he added grimly.
For a second she thought she would pass out. Dimly, she heard him opening the door at her back.
“Bad luck for you, huh?” she spit at him. A clamoring anger filled her. “Well, don’t give it another thought. I sure don’t plan to. I’m not going to the police. But if either one of you ever comes near me again, I’ll make you rue the day you were born.”
Gavin stepped aside. Hayley and the Walkens stood in the doorway with mingled expressions of shock and concern. Leigh’s humiliation was complete.
Pivoting, s
he held her tears in check with fierce effort as she gazed at the man she had dreamed about for so long.
“I will never, ever forgive you for this.”
EIGHTEEN HOURS LATER, Gavin sat in jail contemplating his bruised knuckles and wondering why he’d felt obligated to play the hero. All he had to do was tell the police the truth—and ruin Leigh’s reputation completely.
Besides, what was the point? The cops thought they already knew the truth. An anonymous tip put his bike outside his employer’s house last night. The house had been burgled. Old man Wickert had been struck a couple of times, tied up, then left there to suffer a heart attack. If he died, the cops would add murder to the charge, and Gavin knew the police chief was just itching to do exactly that.
Gavin had been allowed one phone call. He’d used it to call George Walken. He’d elicited a reluctant promise from the man to keep Leigh out of this no matter what. He’d pointed out that telling the truth would only get him in deeper. The cops would claim Gavin had given her the drug and there was no point in dragging her name through the mud. He’d told George’s attorney, Ira Rosencroft, the same thing.
Gavin opened his eyes when his cell door suddenly clanged open. A fresh-faced officer not much older than he was took a step back and waited.
“Let’s go, Jarret.”
“Go where?”
“You need to sign for your things. You’re being released.”
“Why?”
“You like it here so much you want to stay?”
“Did Mr. Wickert regain consciousness?”
Hope filled him. The old man had been a demanding boss, as crotchety as a bear coming out of hibernation. He’d turned grumbling into an art form, but he’d given Gavin a job and a chance when no one else would, and over time, the two of them had come to like and respect each other.
The cop shook his head. “He died about an hour ago.”
“Damn.”
Their eyes met in shared sympathy. Gavin swallowed his grief. “So, why are you letting me go?”
“Your alibi came in. You know, you could have saved us all a lot of work if you’d just told us where you were last night.”
The Second Sister Page 2