Razor's Edge

by Shannon K. Butcher

  A heady rush of power flooded her as she witnessed his pleasure. She’d done that to him, and she was only getting started.

  Tanner struggled to retain one coherent thought amidst the flood of pleasure sweeping through him: Don’t hurt her.

  She wasn’t making it easy. Her hot mouth slid over his cock, sucking and licking just the way he liked. Her grip was firm, her clever fingers stroking him as her mouth moved. She wasn’t shy or timid. She wasn’t afraid of hurting him. He wished he could say the same.

  Sweat beaded up on his spine. His legs shook. He fought the urge to hold her head and thrust into her mouth, knowing his grip would press against the knot on her skull. Instead, he clenched his fists and stood there, letting her do what she wanted.

  He was swiftly spiraling out of control—nearing that space where rational thought ceased to exist and he’d forget all his good intentions. He was seconds away from climax, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to resist touching her while he came. The only part of her he could reach was her wounded head.

  No way was he going to do that to her.

  Tanner stepped back, pulling himself from her mouth. His cock was shiny, thick, and dark from her attention. She eyed it like she was starving for another taste, and in that second, he nearly gave in.

  He shook with the effort of resisting her as he pulled her to her feet. “Does it hurt to lie down?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Then do it.”

  She offered him a hot smile that he felt all the way to his toes; then she sat on the bed.

  Tanner knelt in front of her and unlaced her boots. His fingers trembled, but he managed to get the ties open and pulled them from her feet. Her pants were next, and he kept his focus on the job, refusing to look at any bit of bare skin until he was done. Once he had her naked, he kissed his way up her legs, parting them as he went. Small bruises marred her knees, which he paid special attention to, planting light kisses so he wouldn’t hurt her.

  She shivered and scraped her fingernails over his scalp as if searching for hair she could tug on.

  The inside of her thighs was magically soft. He didn’t know how she could be so tough while hiding so much softness. It was like a treasure no one else could see, and Tanner knew the secret.

  His hands splayed over her thighs, pressing them wide. The contrast of his rough hands on her perfect skin drove him crazy, and he had to consciously keep his fingers from tightening on her, leaving marks of possession.

  She opened to him, revealing her sex. It was flushed and slick with arousal. “I haven’t even touched you yet, and you’re ready for me.”

  “Sucking your cock turned me on.”

  Lust, pure and powerful, slammed into him at her words. Need took over, as instincts dominated thought. He didn’t care about careful anymore. All he wanted to do was drive them over the edge so many times, they wouldn’t even remember what it felt like not to be falling.

  Tanner let out a growl as his mouth covered her. She bucked off the bed, but he pushed her back down and held her hips still while he explored. Her taste went to his head, clouding his thoughts even more. She was sweet and hot, making the sexiest noises he’d ever heard. Her fingers cupped his head, clenching and opening as he pushed her higher.

  Her clit was swollen, and every time he flicked over it, she let out another high-pitched gasp. He pushed two fingers inside her, and her thighs tensed, shaking as her orgasm neared. She held her breath and tightened around his fingers. All he could think about what how good that contraction was going to feel on his cock once he got inside her.

  A fine tremor started at her core and vibrated out through her limbs. She let out a long, breathless cry of release and dug her fingernails into his scalp.

  Tanner nearly lost his load just witnessing her pleasure. He waited until the last flutter had passed before he moved away and shoved his jeans off. He was poised, ready to slide inside her when he remembered the condom. With a violent curse for his stupidity, he grabbed one and covered himself.

  “Glad one of us is thinking,” she panted.

  What he was thinking was that he could have been naked inside her right now. He’d never done that with a woman before, and despite how irresponsible it would have been, he would have enjoyed the hell out of it, at least until it was over.

  He came back to her and saw the dark, angry bruise on her side where the bullet had struck. Something inside him seized up. He froze, realizing how close she’d come to dying tonight.

  That thought gave him the control he needed to slow down. He leaned over her, kissing the bruise. She grabbed his ears and tugged on them.

  He smiled down at her. “You certainly don’t have any trouble communicating in bed, do you?”

  She smiled back. “I’d really like you to fuck me right now.”

  “That’s pretty clear.”

  Her thigh slid over his, grazing him with that magically soft skin. She pushed him back onto the bed and straddled his body. There was a look of conquest on her face, and a wicked grin on her mouth as she gripped his erection and eased down onto it. Tight heat enveloped him as she sank down, working to take all of him.

  She let out a rough sigh and braced her hand on his ribs. The curve of her waist and the flare of her hips drove him wild. The way her breasts moved as she arched her back was almost more than he could take. Not even the bruise detracted from her beauty.

  She was glowing with perspiration, flushed with arousal. Her blond hair, which had come loose, was wild about her face. Her eyes were closed in concentration, and the sleek muscles in her thighs and arms flexed as she rode him.

  Tanner watched, refusing to miss a thing. He knew it would hasten his release, but he couldn’t stop himself from enjoying every moment with her.

  He cupped her breasts, feeling her tight nipple rub against his palm. She gripped his wrists and sped up the pace. He could see her heart pounding in the hollow of her throat, and feel her muscles tighten as she worked herself toward another climax.

  Tanner sat up, cradling her body against his. He helped her move, hitting the spot that made her breath catch in her throat. His own orgasm was barreling down on him, but he gritted his teeth and held back.

  He caught her mouth with his. He had to kiss her again and swallow her cries of pleasure as she came. Her tongue mated with his, he sucked her bottom lip. Her rhythm sped up and her breath shot out in short, hard gasps.

  Pressure built at the base of his spine. He wasn’t going to be able to hold back much longer. He wrapped his arm around her hips, angling them so he could hit the spot she liked on every stroke. Her cries guided his way, rising up like music he longed to hear over and over. His lips covered hers, drinking in the sound.

  Roxanne let out a small whimper, then screamed into his mouth as the first wave of her climax hit.

  Tanner lost control. His body took over as his orgasm tore through him, choking the breath from his chest. Semen pumped out of him with every liquid clench of her body. Her spasms dragged out his pleasure until he was sure it would kill him. Lights flashed in his eyes, and the last pulse rippled out of him.

  He flopped back onto the bed, bringing Roxanne with him. He gulped down air, trying to refill his starved lungs. Her heart beat against his ribs, and her breath spilled out over his chest. She was limp and boneless, lying over him like a blanket, seemingly in no hurry to move.

  He would have stayed like this for hours if not for the condom. But reality was a thing best not ignored, so he rolled her over and pulled his cock out of her body. She made a weak noise of protest but let him go.

  His legs barely worked as he dealt with the condom and stumbled back to bed. She lay sprawled across the sheets, too beautiful for words—the kind of woman a man never tired of looking at.

  That was what his folks had had. Dad never once strayed from Mom. He’d never even had eyes for another woman. He’d looked at Mom as if she were the only woman on the face of the planet until the day he’d died. From
the time Tanner hit puberty, Dad always said that when he found the right woman, he’d know to stop looking. There wouldn’t be any question.

  Tanner stared down at Roxanne. He couldn’t imagine looking at anyone else. He didn’t know her well enough to get ahead of himself, but one thing was certain. When he did find the right one, she’d be the kind of person who spoke her mind. She’d be the kind of person who would drop everything to help someone in need. She’d be the kind of person who would courageously put her life on the line for another. In essence, she’d be a lot like Roxanne.

  There’d been a time in his life when thoughts like that would have scared him shitless, but a lot had happened in the last few months. He realized how fleeting life really was. He’d focused on his job for so long that he’d almost lost the ability to see anything else.

  He was seeing Roxanne now, and a welcoming warmth began to uncurl inside him. He wasn’t sure what it was, but for the first time since Dad and Brody died, he felt as if he were waking up. The shambling stupor that he’d been living through fell away, and he actually saw a future for himself. He didn’t know what it would hold, but that hardly mattered. His life wasn’t over. He’d lost a lot, but not everything. He still had Mom and Reid. And for now, he had Roxanne. That was a hell of a lot more than most people ever got.

  She was asleep when he came back, snuggled into the pillows. He pulled the sheet up over her body, partly to help himself focus, but mostly because the air in here was chilly. As sweaty as they’d gotten, it wouldn’t take long for her to cool down.

  Unless he heated things up again.

  That sounded like the best idea mankind had ever had, until he remembered that he’d just used his last condom. As close as he’d come to unprotected sex only a few minutes ago, he didn’t think it was wise to test his self-control.

  She lay on her side, resting her head on her hands. The hard metal of her bracelet seemed to be cutting into her skin, so he eased her hand out from under her cheek and flipped open the tiny latch that held it shut. It sprung open, revealing three pale, parallel scars on her wrist—the kind made in a suicide attempt.

  Shock hit him hard, and he sucked in a breath. Roxanne’s golden eyes popped open, and she snatched her wrist away from him, cradling it against her body in a protective gesture. “I didn’t want you to see that.”

  He couldn’t imagine her ever having been the kind of person who would give up. It just didn’t sit right in his view of her, like an extra piece to an already-completed puzzle. He didn’t know what to do with the information, so he sat there, staring.

  She let out a long sigh of frustration and turned away from him.

  Like hell he was letting this drop. He moved around the bed and sat on the other side, forcing her to face him. “Why?”

  “Why what? Why didn’t I want you to see the scars, or why did I try to kill myself?”

  “Either. Both.”

  “I didn’t want you to see the scars because I didn’t want you looking at me like this.”

  “Like what?”

  “With shock. Disappointment. Pity.”

  “You tried to kill yourself. How am I supposed to look at you?”

  She sat up, gloriously naked and flushed with rage. “No, I didn’t. I hide the scars because that’s the first thing everyone thinks. My life sucked sometimes, but I’d never take the easy way out. I’m not a coward, and I hate seeing everyone look at me as though I am. I saved myself. I killed that fucker.”

  Confusion rattled through him. She’d killed someone? He grabbed her shoulders. “Slow down. What are you talking about?”

  Roxanne looked away from him and pulled the sheet up over her chest. “I was kidnapped for ransom when I was fourteen. He told my parents he wanted ten million dollars to let me go.”

  That was a shitload of money, even for rich people. “But he lied, didn’t he? He got the money and didn’t let you go.”

  “No. He would have let me go. My parents refused to pay it. My dad actually bargained with him.” Hurt shone in her eyes, but not a single tear fell. “I heard the whole thing. Dad said they could have another kid. That it would be more cost-effective to raise a new child to adulthood than it would to get me back. As if I were some kind of investment, and letting me go was cutting his losses on a bad deal.” She hugged her knees. “Dad said I was worth no more than three percent of his net worth.”

  Rage swam in Tanner’s belly, making larger and larger circles until he was shaking with the spread of anger that filled him. How could a father say that? Even if it was a lie? “You’re fucking kidding me.”

  She shook her head. “The kidnapper cut me, trying to convince Dad to change his mind. He didn’t. I don’t think he believed I was his biological daughter, and he hated me for that—for being proof of Mom’s cheating. That’s where the scars came from.”

  He couldn’t imagine that kind of evil, treating a child like a commodity—even if she wasn’t his child. If her dad hadn’t already been dead, Tanner would have had a hard time not killing him for the crime of being a heartless monster.

  Roxanne drew in a deep breath. “I knew I was on my own. No one was coming to save me. When the kidnapper was in the middle of throwing a fit over Dad’s refusal to give him the money, I swiped the knife. When he came back, I stabbed him.” Her eyes took on a distant look. “I didn’t mean to kill him. I just wanted to get away. But I hit an artery in his thigh, and he died in minutes.”

  Tanner needed to hold her. He reached for her to pull her into his arms, but she shied away. “Don’t. I don’t want your pity.” She snapped the cuff back in place, turned over, and shoved a cold wall of air between them.

  “I don’t pity you, Roxanne. I admire your bravery. Those are battle scars—signs of courage. You’re the one who’s hiding them as if they’re shameful.”

  “The kids at school didn’t see them that way. Did you ever wonder where I got the nickname Razor?”

  He could see the other kids taunting her, mocking her for the scars. “Kids can be cruel. If you didn’t like the name, why keep it?”

  “To remind me of what I’d done.”

  “You were punishing yourself.”

  “No one else would. I had to do something.”

  “It was self-defense, Roxanne. That man deserved what he got.”

  “I’m not so sure. I’ve often wondered what drove him to do something so drastic. Was it drugs? Greed? Or did he have a sick kid at home who needed medical care? He didn’t have a police record. No one knew who he was. No one claimed the body. To this day, I still don’t know why he did it.”

  “It doesn’t matter why. He made the choice to abduct a child. That automatically makes him guilty.”

  “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I just want to sleep,” she said. “Please, leave me alone.”

  There was nothing he could do to take back what she’d suffered. He had no real claim to any relationship with her. They weren’t even dating. If he’d been her boyfriend, he would at least have felt he had the right to push the issue. But the truth was, they had no future. Their jobs prohibited it.

  If it had just been him, he would have walked away from the job without blinking, but it wasn’t just him. He had to think about his family. They needed him right now, and he couldn’t shirk that duty. He had to keep this job.

  He stared down at Roxanne, aching to do something to ease her suffering. But all he could offer her was the rest she needed so that she wouldn’t crumble under the strain of searching for Jake. So that’s what he did. He got up and left her alone, hating every second of it.

  Tanner grabbed a shower and got dressed. Clay was going to be here in about an hour, and he was planning on standing guard so she could get some sleep. Whatever the man’s plan was, Tanner hoped it was a good one, because he didn’t know how much longer he could stand to watch Roxanne hurt.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Jake opened his eyes, snapping awake in an instant. He had no idea where he was or how
he’d gotten here. He was standing, wearing a backless hospital gown and looking into the aging face of Dr. Stynger. Her bright red lips burned his eyes, as did the light she was using to stab his retinas.

  She clicked the penlight off. “Excellent. How do you feel?”

  He wanted to shout some smart-ass remark at her, but, instead, he found himself taking a mental inventory of his body. He was sore, as if he’d had the hardest workout of his life two days ago and had been shoved in a coffin for his muscles to freeze in place. His head hurt, but that was nothing new. He wasn’t nauseated, which was nice. “Fine.”

  “Good. Do you know who I am?” she asked.

  Evil bitch from hell. “Dr. Stynger.”

  “See?” she said, turning to someone behind her. “I told you he’d survive.”

  Bower stepped up and clapped a hand on Jake’s shoulder as if he gave a shit. “I’m glad you made it.”

  Jake barely resisted the urge to shrug the other man’s hand away. He had no idea what he’d survived, but their worry seemed genuine.

  He looked around the room he was in. It was small and brightly lit. Medical equipment surrounded a gurney at his side. There were blue linens crumpled on a tray, dotted with blood. His? Probably.

  Dr. Stynger stripped off her latex gloves with a snap and turned to Bower. “The next forty-eight hours will be crucial. If he makes it that long, he has an eighty percent survival rate.”

  “And what’s my rate now, Doc?”

  Her pale green eyes met his, and something in his mind opened up, desperate for her to speak and fill the void. She smiled as if she’d heard his thoughts. “Flip a coin.”

  He forced his sore shoulder to lift in a negligent shrug. “I’ve faced worse.”

  Her smile widened, and she walked to the door.

  Bower was right on her heels. “Sit tight and rest here. We’ll be back in a few minutes and run some more tests.”

  “What kind of tests? What did you do to me?”

  “All in good time,” said the doctor. “If you want to find out, I suggest you focus on staying alive. You shouldn’t sleep for at least twenty hours. Thirty is better.”