The Only Way Out

by Susan Mallery

  “Excuse me if I don’t believe you. For the past week or so you’ve done a great imitation of someone who despises me.”

  “Okay, maybe at first I could have done without your company, but you’ve shown me you’re not so bad.”

  “I’m overwhelmed by the compliment.”

  “I can’t help that I’m a charming kind of guy.”

  Instead of smiling, she looked serious. She glanced up at him. “Are you being nice to me because I’m leaving tomorrow?”

  “Partially.” He decided it was time to be honest. He might never get another chance. He’d spent the last five years living with regrets. He didn’t want any more in his life. “But I’m not that altruistic. I’m also doing it for me. Because I don’t want you to be angry when you leave.”

  “I can’t approve of what you’re going to do. I think it’s wrong.”

  “I didn’t mean that. I meant me, specifically.” He drew his arm back to his side, then leaned forward on the swing. He rested his elbows on his knees and let his hands dangle. “You have this image of me. Most of it’s not true. I’m not the guy in the white hat. I’m just a man.”

  “I never thought you were perfect.”

  “You thought my marriage was. You think I’m mourning something that can’t be replaced. It’s more complicated than that.”

  She didn’t say anything. He glanced at her. She was staring straight ahead.

  He looked back at the porch flooring. “We met in college. I was three years older, a senior while Jeanne was a freshman. I already knew what I wanted out of my life. I was going to work for the government and save the world. We dated, then I graduated and went into training. I was gone for several months. When I came back, Jeanne was still waiting for me. We got married.”

  “I’m sure it was lovely for both of you.”

  He ignored the sarcasm. He knew it came from her pain. “Jeanne had one goal in life, and that was to be the perfect wife. At first we were in love and it was easy to be together. Then my work began to consume me. She tried harder, but I didn’t notice the effort or her perfection. I was too busy getting promoted or being in the field. Too many months apart began to wear on the marriage. I thought maybe we should split up or something. Then I found out she was pregnant.”

  He drew in a deep breath. He remembered that day as if it had just happened. He’d been home about a week, after being gone for two months. Already he was itching to be somewhere else. The walls of their small house seemed confining. Jeanne’s endless chatter about wallpaper and gardening had bored him. He’d wanted more, an adventure, but when she’d looked at him he’d seen the love in her eyes and he couldn’t say the words. Then she’d told him about the baby.

  “I never thought about having children. Jeanne hadn’t told me she’d stopped using the Pill. I was surprised, and thrilled. But I didn’t change my ways.” He closed his eyes against the memories, but they were there anyway. “I wasn’t with her when J.J. was born.”

  “J.J.?”

  “Jeff Jr.” He grimaced. “Pretty egotistical.”

  “I think it’s sweet.”

  “Yeah, right. I loved my son and my wife, but they weren’t enough. I wanted to be in the field. I wanted to be in the center of the action. Jeanne used to beg me to take a desk job. I’d reached the point where the next promotion would bring me inside. I didn’t want to go. I liked what I was doing. Our marriage was obviously failing. When I got assigned to a post in Lebanon, Jeanne showed up as a last-ditch effort to hold it all together. I wanted her to go home. She said if she went, she was filing for divorce. So I let her stay. Because I couldn’t face the consequences of her leaving. I wasn’t willing to lose my son.”

  He shook his head. “That’s what haunts me. I was selfish. I wanted it all. I wanted my family and my job. In the end, I lost them both.”

  “Jeff, don’t.” She placed her hand on his back.

  He ignored her. The words came faster now. “If I’d just sent them back, J.J. would be alive now. I think about that all the time. It’s my fault. I killed them as much as Kray did. Because they were there and an easy target. Because I was on his heels and I refused to back off, he murdered them. I was right there when the car exploded. Less than twenty feet away. Pieces of metal and some wood from a nearby stand rained down on us. People were screaming. Fire was everywhere.”

  She slid across the bench seat and leaned over him. Her hands clutched at his shoulders, her forehead pressed against his back. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “I tried to get to them, but the heat drove me back. My knee was busted, some other things broken. I knew they died instantly. But I kept imagining I heard them calling out for me. It was months before the dreams stopped coming every night.”

  She didn’t say anything, she simply rocked against him, offering solace and comfort. He let her hold him because he had no energy left to fight her, and because right now he needed to be held. So many others had tried to reach him. His parents, Jeanne’s parents, friends. It hadn’t worked. Perhaps because they’d used kindness. Andie had gotten inside with a combination of fury and determination. He’d been so busy hating her, he hadn’t noticed she’d slipped past his defenses.

  “The thing I regret most is the time I lost with J.J. I was never there for him. Work got in the way and I assumed I had enough time. Now that I know what I’ve lost, there’s no way to get it back.”

  Her long hair spilled over his bare arm. He reached up and fingered the silky strands. “You’re so damn beautiful.”

  She laughed, although it came out slightly strangled.

  He glanced at her. Tears filled her eyes and spilled onto her cheeks. “Why are you crying?”

  She sniffed. “It’s so sad. I wish I could make it better for you. I wish there was a way to bring J.J. and Jeanne back so you could tell them you love them and miss them.”

  “You’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever met.”

  She flushed and turned away. “Don’t say that.”

  “It’s true. After everything that’s happened between us, you’re still generous enough to want me to see my wife. How can you forgive me for what happened in my bed?”

  “I don’t want to talk about that.”

  She started to move back, but he grabbed her arm and held her in place. Gently he touched her chin until she was looking at him. “I’m sorry, Andie. I was out of line. Please forgive me.”

  “All right.”

  He smiled. “As easily as that?”

  “I don’t have time to hold a grudge. I’ll be gone soon, and then I’ll never see you again. Spending these last few hours being angry at each other seems like a waste of the time we have left.”

  Especially when they could be making love.

  The thought came from nowhere, but once it lodged in his brain, he didn’t want to let it go. His arousal was instant. Blood raced through him, heating by the second, bubbling with need and intensity. He remembered the feel of her next to him, under him. Her sweetness surrounded him. His gaze was drawn to her mouth.

  She didn’t notice. She stared at her hands resting on her lap. “I want to convince you not to go through with it. Because when you sell your soul to the devil, you can’t get it back.”

  He leaned against the swing. “I don’t have any more explanations for you. I have to do this. I know you don’t understand. Hell, half the time I don’t understand, either. But my decision is made. This is who I am. A couple of days ago you said I’d seen the worst part of you. Now you’ve seen the worst part of me. I’m a killer, just like Kray. I know that, but I’m still going to do it.”

  She flung herself at him. “I don’t want you to die.”

  It was a cry from her soul. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. “I’ll do my best to survive.”

  “Don’t make a joke of it.”

  “I’m not,” he whispered, stroking her hair. “I swear I’ll try to get out of here.”

  Her breath was hot against his
shirt, her tears damp. “But if you—”

  “Shh. No more words, Andie. Not tonight. I can’t say what you want to hear and you can’t convince me. You’re right. There’s not much time left. Tomorrow you’ll be gone.”

  “Hold me,” she said softly. “Hold me.”

  He pulled her onto his lap. She snuggled close. Her cheek rested on his shoulder. He could feel her warmth and the faint beating of her heat. Her hip pressed against his arousal. He thought she didn’t notice. Finally she shifted slightly and looked up at him.

  He read the questions in her eyes.

  “I want you,” he said simply.

  He expected some kind of response. Maybe agreement or a quick slap on the face. He hadn’t expected her to duck her head in shame. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m a complete bastard.” He slid his hands up her arms to cup her face. When she tried to turn away, he held her still. Their eyes met. “I’m sorry. I know you said you forgave me and all that, but I want you to know I mean it. I never wanted to hurt you. I was reacting to my own feelings about Kray. I don’t think you’re a whore. You’re right. I wasn’t thinking about you, I was using you, but it wasn’t on purpose. I didn’t set out to be a jerk. It just sort of happened.”

  “I didn’t set out to marry an evil man.”

  “I know he deceived you. I know it wasn’t your fault. I know you left as soon as you found out the truth.”

  Andie stared at him. She wanted to believe him. She’d been waiting six years to have someone say those words to her. To hear them from Jeff was more than she’d ever hoped for. She knew she was a fool when it came to him. Probably she should hate him for what he’d done. The problem was she understood what he was thinking. If the situations had been reversed, she would have been just as angry at him for being alive. She would have assumed the worst about him.

  His eyes were dark in the night, a deep midnight blue. He was close enough that she could feel his warm breath on her face.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, as he stroked her face. “If I could take the words back, I would.”

  She felt his pain for her, and it was enough. Without thinking about what she was doing, she leaned forward and kissed him. Her brief touch was meant to comfort and offer atonement. Instead, at the first brush of his lips, her body began to tingle. She became aware of their position, of the fact that she was on his lap and he was already aroused. Her hands rested on his chest, her bare thighs touched his. They were both hungry for love.

  “Come with me,” he said.

  She slipped off his lap and stood up. He rose and took her hand. Together they walked into the house and toward his bedroom. At the door she hesitated. She didn’t want a repeat of what had happened before.

  Jeff understood. She supposed that was one of the things she liked best about him—he often read her mind.

  “There’s just the two of us,” he said, stepping into the bedroom. “No one else. I promise.”

  She trusted his promises, just as she trusted him. She followed him inside, then closed the door. She couldn’t imagine leaving this place without being with him one more time. She wanted to love him with her body, to silently speak the words she wasn’t sure she had the courage to say aloud.

  He bent over and clicked on the light beside the bed, then stood in front of her. He was tall. She had to tilt her head back to look at his face. She liked the way the shadows and hollows of his face made him dangerously handsome. She liked the way her heart beat faster when he was close to her.

  He reached out and touched her hair. “You’re so beautiful, Andie. I know what you look like, but every time I see you, your beauty takes my breath away.”

  She knew her nose was a little small and her mouth uneven, with a fuller bottom lip. Her eyes were okay, but she didn’t have great cheekbones. She’d spent a couple of years as a model and was intimately familiar with her physical faults. Yet Jeff didn’t notice. She could point them out to him and he would simply shake his head in amazement and tell her she was crazy. What did any of that matter?

  He was right, she acknowledged. It didn’t matter. As long as he thought she was attractive, she didn’t care about the rest of the world.

  He slipped his fingers through her hair. She reached forward and began to unbutton his shirt. When she was done, she pushed the material aside and pressed her lips to his bare chest.

  He tasted of man and the sea. She could smell the scent of tropical sunshine, of the sand and the wind. He was hot against her lips. She flickered her tongue against the golden hairs angling down his chest toward his belly. They tickled her mouth. He caught his breath, then twisted her hair around his hand and held her head in place.

  She smiled against him. She had no plans to move away. She wanted to touch him, taste him, everywhere. She wanted to be close to him.

  She wrapped her arms around his waist and moved her mouth to his collarbone. She licked the length, then slipped lower to his flat nipple. She nibbled at the slight crest, circling until she felt the shudder that raced through him.

  The night was still, the air sultry. The heat between them grew and intensified. He released her hair and grabbed her shoulders. She looked up. He face was taut with anticipation and pleasure. He wanted her. His arousal pressed against her belly.

  As he bent down toward her, she reached around and cupped his rear. The muscles there flexed against her hands. Her palms hugged the fullest part of the curve, her fingers squeezed. Then his mouth found hers.

  Hunger swept over her as his lips searched hers, touching everywhere, seeking her sweetness. She opened for him. He teased her by not entering. Instead, his tongue traced her lips, over and over again. He licked the tiny corners, then worshiped the soft inner skin. She squirmed against him, wanting more, needing more.

  Desire, fueled by the danger, by the fear that their world was about to explode, filled every part of her body. Her thighs trembled, her breasts ached, her chest was tight as if she couldn’t catch her breath.

  She angled her head, then in desperation thrust her tongue into his mouth. They touched, tip to tip. Excitement raced through her. Jeff laughed low in his throat, then retreated, as if expecting her to follow.

  She did. She tasted his moistness, his heat. She reveled in the clenching of his muscles. She moved her hands up his back, under his shirt. Warm skin met hers. He was strong and broad. A man. Hard to her soft, but matching her tenderness with his own.

  It wasn’t just about the sex, she thought as he began to tug on the hem of her tank top. It was specifically about him, about the feelings she had for him. She needed him, she cared about him. She loved him.

  Love. Her eyes opened. She raised her head as he pulled up the tank top. The material slid up her torso, then over her head and down her arms. He fingered the strap of her bra.

  “I would have pictured you in satin, but the cotton looks just right,” he said.

  She smiled. “I’m not really a satin sort of person.”

  “You don’t need it to look sexy. You just are. All the time.”

  “Oh, right. You haven’t seen me when I have the flu.”

  He laughed. She reached up and shoved his shirt off his shoulders. It fell onto the floor behind him. Jeff kicked it aside and stepped back to the bed. He sat on the edge, then urged her to straddle him. Her knees and calves rested on the bedspread, his hands locked behind her back. She could feel his arousal pressing against her heated center. With a quick flick of her head, she shook her hair off her shoulders. It stretched down her spine, tickling her bare skin.

  “You’re not so bad looking yourself,” she said.

  He shrugged. She leaned forward and nipped the end of his chin. “A little shy, are we?”

  He cleared his throat. “Guys aren’t supposed to, well, you know.”

  “Guys aren’t supposed to do a lot of things, but being handsome isn’t one of them.”

  “Andie.” His voice came out in a growl.

  “What?” She moved lower, kissi
ng his neck, licking the line where stubble gave way to smooth skin.

  His hips arched against hers. She could feel the length of him, the hardness. He was ready.

  “Undo your bra,” he said.

  She looked up, startled.

  “The catch is in the front and if I let go—” he released her briefly and she started to slip back “—you’ll fall.”

  She glanced down at the white cotton bra. The fastener sat low between her breasts. It gave with the slight flick of her finger. She did it every night without a second thought. But she’d never undressed for a man.

  It was no big deal, she told herself. She squeezed the catch and it popped open. The cups slipped to the sides, but the edge of the lace caught on her nipples.

  “Don’t move,” he ordered, staring at her chest. His organ surged against her. The muscles in his arms tightened.

  She couldn’t help herself. She wiggled slightly. The bra came loose and she shrugged it off.

  “You leave me weak,” he said, then fell back on the bed. He pulled her with him.

  The action caught her off guard. She shrieked and braced herself with her arms. She straddled him. Her bare breasts were inches from his chest. Laughter and need darkened his eyes. He drew her up until her breasts were over his mouth; then he reached up and captured one hard nipple.

  At the moment his lips closed over her, she felt the tingling start. It filled her chest, then moved to her feminine place, finally moving out to her arms and legs. Her hair spilled around them, over his neck and face. He didn’t brush it away. Instead, he shifted her so he could reach her other breast.

  His tongue traced her nipple; then he licked her pale skin. He moistened her and blew on the dampness. Again and again, going from breast to breast, he suckled her until her arms refused to support her. Only then did he let her roll on her back.

  Before he could move over her, she reached for him, pulling him close. She wanted to press against him, feel all of him near her, around her, in her.

  His weight rested on her for a moment, then he slid down, trailing kisses along her belly. He pulled off her shorts and her panties and tossed them behind him. He kissed her knees, her thighs and her hipbones. While he dipped his tongue into her belly button, his fingers found her waiting moistness. With one quick stroke, she was already near the moment of surrender.