by T. J. Kline
She lay the note on the table, unwilling to chance his touch again. She already felt as if the trailer was closing in on her, her breath coming in short gasps as he continued to gaze at her with a fiery hunger that both scared and excited her. She noticed that his own breath was uneven as he finally looked away, severing the trance he’d cast over her.
“We should probably get some sleep.” He removed the cushions from the couch and pulled out the sofa bed. She retrieved the pillows from the closet near the bed and took them back to him. “I’ll set an alarm in here.”
Sydney walked back to the bedroom, glancing at Scott on the couch, and fought off a sense of déjà vu. She only hoped the next morning didn’t end the same way. Sydney slipped between the cool sheets and willed sleep to come. After counting sheep, mentally balancing her checkbook, and staring at the ceiling for what seemed like hours, she heard Scott on the couch, still tossing and turning.
“Scott,” she called out.
“Yeah, what’s wrong?” He sounded irritated.
“I really am sorry for the things I said.”
“So am I,” he admitted. “I accused you of a lot of things that I know you didn’t deserve.”
They were silent for a moment and Sydney heard him shifting on the sofa bed again. She felt guilty that he had to sleep on the uncomfortable bed while she had a full mattress to herself, knowing that he had a much harder day ahead of him than she did. But did she dare offer to share the bed with him? A blush crept up her cheeks and burned her face.
Before she could offer, she heard Scott’s muffled voice. “Goodnight, Sydney.”
“Goodnight,” she whispered.
ALTHOUGH HE WAS exhausted, Scott couldn’t sleep. He lay on the couch with a metal bar pressing into his lower back listening as Sydney’s breathing evened out. He’d already conjured up at least a hundred indecent proposals he wanted to make. His entire body felt like it was on fire, wanting to crawl into the bed with her, if only to hold her close. He couldn’t remember ever wanting a woman as badly as he wanted her at that moment. Scott noticed when her breath went rapid and shallow and he held his own, listening. She began to murmur in her sleep incoherently and toss on the bed.
He rose, assuming that she was, once again, having a nightmare, and made his way to the bed. She had become twisted in the sheet; the blanket had been tossed to the floor at some point. She whimpered and cried out softly.
“Sydney.” Scott said her name, trying to gently rouse her from the nightmare. When he heard her sob in her sleep, he slipped into the bed beside her, wrapping his arms around her. “Shh, Sydney, it’s okay,” he whispered, stroking her hair.
“No,” she cried. “Get off me! You said you loved me.”
“Sydney, wake up. You’re dreaming.” Scott shook her slightly.
“Please, don’t.” She awoke with a start, confusion clouding her eyes. Scott could just see the tears streaming down her cheeks, glistening in the dim light he’d left on over the stove.
“Scott?”
He could tell that she wasn’t sure whether or not she was still dreaming in her barely conscious state. “Yeah, it’s just me.”
Scott gathered her into his arm and held her gently, kissing her forehead, temples and eyes. He didn’t understand her tears, but he wanted to make sure she felt safe enough with him that she would talk about her dream. As her tears passed, she clung to his bare chest as if she wouldn’t let him go. In truth, he didn’t want her to let go, but he also realized that his body was responding to her soft curves in a way that certainly didn’t instill feelings of safety. He grasped for every ounce of self-control within him.
“Sydney, I can’t help if I don’t know the problem.”
“I can’t talk about it.” Scott could hear the pain in her voice, even with her face buried against his chest.
“You obviously need to talk about it,” he whispered as he tipped her chin up with a finger, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Princess, trust me.”
“I want to, but I just . . .”
Scott ran his thumb across her cheek and smoothed away a stray curl at her temple. “Who hurt you?” She immediately stiffened against him, and he knew he’d hit the mark. Sydney tried to pull away, but he held her close.
SYDNEY HAD JUST begun to feel safe and content in Scott’s arms as the last of her tears fell against is chest. She’d had several nightmares about what had happened, but this was the first time anyone had been there to hold her as the fear and pain were purged. And then he asked her to talk about it. To talk about it would be to relive everything, including her failure. She couldn’t do that, not yet.
She tried to pull away from him, to withdraw from his too perceptive gaze, but he held her to him firmly. Instead of feeling imprisoned and trapped by his embrace, she found compassion in the muscular wall of his chest. His shoulders offered her a foundation of strength she could cling to. And when she saw his eyes she knew they weren’t just reflecting her torture; his own was there as well. He wanted her to trust him, and she desperately wanted to finally exorcise the anguish that had pursued her for the last eighteen months.
“Kurt,” she barely whispered, as if speaking his name would cause his appearance.
She could see the moment that understanding dawned. They had both been betrayed by the same person. “What happened?” he asked, cupping her face with his calloused hand.
“We were friends,” she began. “At least I thought we were.”
“When?”
“Almost two years ago. He came home from a rodeo and he’d had a bad ride. He wanted me to come over and watch a movie, have dinner with him. I thought . . .” Sydney searched for the right word. “I guess I thought he might be interested in more than just friendship. I was barely eighteen, and I had this girlish crush on him. But the last time was different. He left the room for a while.”
Scott’s eyes never left her face. She could read the fury in them and wondered if it was directed at her or Kurt. Did he think she was a stupid, naïve girl for being at his apartment at all? She forced herself to continue.
“When he came back, he was a completely different person. He started pressuring me, grabbing me, and when I pushed him away he shouted at me, called me everything he could to insult me. He claimed I led him on, that I was sleeping around, and those were the nicer comments. I assumed he’d been drinking, so I got up to leave, and he threw me back against the couch and said that if other guys were already having me”—Sydney’s voice caught as she remembered her fear—“he would get his turn too.”
Scott’s thumb gently traced the line of her cheekbone and down to her jaw. “Oh, Sydney,” he whispered.
She pressed on, wanting to have it all out now that she’d started talking about it. Like an open sore, this wound had festered for too long. She had to open it wide in order to find healing.
“He tore my clothes apart. I begged him to stop and fought as much as I could, but he was just too strong. I remember trying to claw his eyes out.” Her words caught on a sob as she tried to choke back her tears. “I don’t remember anything else. I don’t know if I passed out, or got knocked out. I don’t know if he . . .” She met Scott’s eyes. “I just don’t know.”
“Did you ever report it? Go to the hospital?”
She shook her head. “I woke up on the floor and he was gone. I felt so . . . dirty and used and stupid. I’ve never told anyone about it.” Scott tucked her head under his chin and held her to his chest, stroking his hands along her spine.
“Sydney, I’m so sorry that you ever had to go through anything like that.” She felt his shoulders stiffen and his arms around her grow protective in their embrace. “If I ever see him again, I’ll kill him with my bare hands.”
“It was my fault,” she confessed against the wall of his chest. “I shouldn’t have been so stupid.”
He pulled away from her and looked down at her. “Don’t ever say that again. It was not your fault. That bastard doesn’t deserve to live.” Hi
s eyes hardened with hate. “But you,” he began, smoothing her hair back from her forehead, “didn’t do anything except trust someone you thought cared about you.”
Scott smiled at her, his eyes softening to liquid onyx. She was surprised at how the fear diminished after confessing to him, although it didn’t disappear entirely. His reaction had eased her worries that he would blame or reject her. It was as if sharing her ordeal had finally shed light of day on a nightmare, removing some of its power to hurt her. She might never know exactly what happened that night but she didn’t want to let it haunt her future.
She laid her head on his chest and listened to the strong, steady beat of Scott’s heart. He offered her strength and compassion. It touched her that he was willing to protect her without viewing the need as weakness on her part. He had reacted completely opposite to what she had expected from him. Sydney began to relax. Her breathing slowed to match his as she curled her hand under her chin. Scott had given her an unexpected gift of freedom and she didn’t know how she could thank him, but she knew that their relationship had completely changed in the last two days.
SCOTT STROKED SYDNEY’S chestnut curls, letting the soft waves flow through his fingers. Her breathing had slowed, become deep and even, and he knew she had fallen asleep hours ago. His mind swirled at what she had told him. Had Kurt actually raped her? Would she know subconsciously, or could she have simply blocked the memory? And what could he do about it? Just the thought of anyone hurting her made him want to hit something, but knowing that it was Kurt . . . fury boiled within him.
He glanced down at the woman asleep on his chest, her fingers curled, her breath fanned against his skin. It was killing him to lay with her. Even after what she had told him, he couldn’t help but desire her. No amount of self-control could stop his body from responding to her nearness, and he cursed himself, praying that the evidence of his arousal would remain his secret. His fingers grazed the silken skin of her lower back where her shirt had slipped up, and electricity shot through him. His abdomen tightened almost painfully. He longed not only to protect her but to possess her as well, and he hated himself for even thinking about his needs. He had to move away from her before she realized how little control he really had over his hunger for her.
Scott slipped his arm from under her and tried to slip out of the bed unnoticed. He had barely sat upright on the edge of the bed when he heard her voice, still groggy with sleep.
“Scott?” He froze in place and didn’t answer. “Don’t go,” she whispered. “Please?”
He clenched his hands. “Sydney, I don’t think I can stay in this bed any longer without touching you,” Scott confessed, looking at her over his shoulder. Sydney’s eyes were like liquid amber, soft and so inviting.
She bit down on the corner of her lip. “Please stay.”
Scott groaned inwardly. “I can’t do that to you, not after what you shared with me.”
Her eyes glowed with the sheen of unshed tears of rejection. “And you don’t want me now?”
“Dear God, I can barely keep myself from you. That’s why I had to get up.” He shook his head, wanting to hold her close, to press his lips to hers, but knowing it would be his undoing. He ran his fingers through his dark hair. “I don’t want you to see me like him.”
“Scott, you are nothing like him.” He felt the warmth of her hand touch his forearm, and he knew he couldn’t deny the pleasure any longer. He lay back down, facing her on the bed, and cupped her face in his fingers, his thumb tracing the outline of her lips.
“But are you sure, Sydney?”
She touched his face, brushing back a stray curl that had fallen forward. “I’m sure, Scott.”
He groaned and pulled her tighter to him, wrapping her in his arms, his hands finding the skin of her lower back warm and inviting. Scott hesitated, his lips just a fraction of an inch from hers, in order to gain some modicum of control over his raging desire. He wanted her to remember this night as something beautiful, and to do that would require restraint on his part.
Scott touched the corner of her mouth with his lips and heard her sharp intake of breath. Her lips parted as he licked her lower lip. He groaned in defeat as she cupped his face in her palms and her small tongue slyly captured his own in a deep kiss filled with all of the longing and passion she felt. He reached down and unbuttoned the flannel shirt she wore, pulling away from her to view her flesh as he revealed it, inch by delectable inch. Sliding his hands over her shoulders, he slid the shirt down her arms and stared at her.
“My God,” he whispered, his voice raw with desire, “You’re beautiful.”
Her breath came in short gasps and he could tell that she was just as lost to the sensations as he was. With his hands at her waist, he lowered his lips to her throat, kissing the hollow below her ear, and was rewarded with a sigh of pleasure. He felt her tremble while he blazed a trail along her throat and collarbone with his teeth and tongue. Scott’s hand slid up the delicate skin of her back, caressing her ribs before finding a breast. His thumb coaxed the nipple to a tight bud as his fingers caressed. Sydney gasped and pressed against him, intertwining her legs with his. White-hot lightning shot through him as her skin touched his own scorched flesh.
Growling, he lowered his head and kissed the top of her breast before stroking it with his tongue. Sydney cried out and arched her back, her nails digging into his bared shoulders as a blazing fire consumed them. Scott nipped at the sensitive flesh with his lips, encircling her waist with his arm and exploring her body with his other hand. He slid her shorts down her long legs before allowing his fingers to trail up her inner thigh. The wisp of lace that she wore for underwear was gone in an instant.
Scott groaned against her skin, the feel of her sending spasms of need through him. He slid from the bed, giving himself a much-needed respite to control his raging passion and rid himself of his pants. He stood before her, completely naked as her eyes darkened with longing. She unconsciously licked her lower lip.
Scott fluidly lowered himself over her, every inch of his body on fire where it touched hers. “Princess, if you keep looking at me like that, tonight will be over before it begins.”
His hands framed her face as he branded her with a searing kiss that reached the depths of his soul, leaving him wanting more of her. His hands explored her body as he kissed her neck and breasts, following his hands with his lips. He caressed her flat abdomen as he slid his fingers up her inner thigh. Scott paused at the juncture of her thighs before he allowed his fingers to dance magically over her waiting heat. She cried out, arching against him, holding on to him as she drowned in the sensations she was riding.
“Scott, please,” she begged.
Unable to bear the exquisite torture any longer, Scott nudged her legs to open for him. He rose above her and placed a slow, sensuous kiss on her swollen lips as he pressed himself against her. Slowly, he entered her. Sydney’s eyes flew open and Scott groaned as he froze, waiting for her to adjust to him. A sweat broke out on his back as her heat clutched and held him tightly.
“Dear God.” He sighed as he pressed into her further.
Sydney’s fingers clutched at the corded muscles of his back and he rocked with her to a rhythm as old and instinctual as time. She met his every penetrating thrust as she rose with him high into the heavens on the crested waves of rapture.
“Sydney,” he whispered, her name a prayer on his lips.
He felt her tremble as she cried out in release. He thrust into her as the heavens exploded and filled her with his passion.
They floated back to earth in one another’s arms.
Chapter Twelve
* * *
SYDNEY LAY WITH her head on Scott’s chest, his body cradling her own. He brushed a stray curl from her cheek.
“You’re mine now, princess.” The intensity of his voice left no doubt for either of them. “You realize that, don’t you?”
She smiled up at him and curled tighter into his embrace. Within minut
es, she had dozed off, leaving him to wonder what had happened that night with Kurt. After all this time, they may never know if Kurt had raped her. Unless he found Kurt and beat the truth out of him, Scott thought ruthlessly.
Scott looked down at Sydney’s sleeping face and smiled. No woman had ever felt as good in his arms as she did. It just felt right. He almost laughed at himself and wondered where this sentimentality had come from. Somehow in the last two weeks, this beautiful, outspoken vixen had snuck past the walls he’d built in his past to his carefully hidden heart. She’d been able to see beyond his pain, bitterness, and regret to emotions he thought he was no longer capable of. He didn’t believe in fairy tales and love, but he knew he cared for her deeply. He finally fell asleep thinking about the princess he held and how maybe fate had finally dealt him a decent hand.
THE POUNDING ON the door woke them both. “Are you guys going to sleep all day?”
Scott squinted as he raised his watch to his face. “Crap!” He looked down at her, stretching against the pillow. He jumped from the bed and reached for his pants on the floor. “Get up. It’s almost eight!”
She clutched the sheet to her chest and yawned. “You’re such a slave driver.” She tried to hide her smile when he shot her an evil glare. “Okay, okay, I’m getting up. But I get the bathroom first.”
Scott reached over and pulled her against him, his dark eyes gleaming mischievously. “No time for separate showers. Guess we’ll have to share.”
She eyed the shower, which was barely big enough for one, and raised a brow. “Really?”
Scott lifted her, dragging the sheet with them as he carried her to the shower. Moments later, he was exploring her body, covering her with a soapy lather. Soon, they were both gasping for breath. Being late was no longer a concern as Sydney cried out her release, the water streaming down her face and mingling with her tears. Scott held her, kissing her eyes and cheeks until their breathing returned to normal. She faced the spray, attempting to rinse off.