by Jill Sanders
He chuckled and walked towards her, and she forgot everything except the gorgeous man heading her way. It reminded her of the scene in the James Bond movie Casino Royale where Daniel Craig walked out of the water. Damn, she was in trouble.
How was she supposed to keep her distance with someone like Reagan?
He didn’t stop walking until their bodies were right up against one another’s again.
“Clara, I… I want you, but there’s something I need to clear up first.”
“Okay,” she said a little breathless.
His eyes moved around and then he sighed. “Let’s go sit down.” He nodded to a couple lawn chairs sitting in the grass a few feet away. “We can dry out and talk.”
She followed him and sat down, enjoying the way the sun warmed her. Only when she looked down at herself did she realize that her bra and panties were completely see through, thanks to the water.
But Reagan didn’t seem to notice now. He was watching the water as if he was trying to come up with the right words.
“Remember how I said… what I do for a living?” he started, keeping his eyes straight ahead.
“Yes,” she said slowly. “You help people.”
“Right.” He took a deep breath. “I was hired by…” He turned to her now, his eyes locking with her own. “I was hired by your family to find you,” he said quickly.
She stilled. Her breath locked in her lungs as his words sank in. When she felt her vision gray, she sucked in a deep breath and closed her eyes as she focused on breathing normally.
“Your dad and stepmother hired me to find you,” he said, reaching for her hand, but she yanked it away and stood quickly. When she felt her world spin, she held onto the back of the chair.
“You’re just now getting around to telling me this?” she ground out.
“I should have told you that first night,” he admitted, standing beside her as he held his hands out towards her. “I should have said something before I kissed you.”
She gripped the back of the chair until her knuckles turned white.
“You were there, at Rico’s, because of me?” she asked. When he nodded, his eyes still on hers, she took a step backwards. “Did you… tell them where I was?” she asked.
“No, not yet.”
“Why?” She shook her head. “Why not?”
“Because I… saw something different in you. I’ve been in the business of helping people too long not to know that where there are inconsistencies… there’s usually trouble. I was right too. Someone else is after you. I’m pretty sure I was used.” She saw his jaw flinch and knew he was holding in his anger.
Her mind whirled. She was just a job to him. He’d been paid to find her. Nothing more. He’d toyed with her from the first night he’d walked into Rico’s place.
Taking another step back, she shook her head when he opened his mouth to talk. “I… need some time to think,” she said quickly. She rushed over and gathered her clothes and sprinted down the path towards the house.
She was thankful when she was able to enter the house and rush up to the room where she’d spent last night in unseen.
Tossing her clothes down, she sat on the edge of the bed and closed her eyes as she ran over the past few days.
Tears threatened to escape her eyes, so she stood up and walked into the bathroom, pulled off her soaked underwear, and stepped into a warm shower. No matter how much she turned up the heat, she just couldn’t get warm enough. Wrapping her arms around herself, she cried as she rested her forehead against the tile.
It was only a matter of time before she’d have to face the music. She could run again, she thought, and then quickly dismissed the idea. She was tired of running.
Sliding down the tile wall, she sat on the floor of the shower and hugged her knees to her chest as the water washed away her last hopes of freedom.
When Reagan entered the house, he could hear the shower running upstairs and pulled a beer from the fridge.
“What did you do now?” His grandfather was sitting in his rocking chair, a book in his lap. He moved into the living room and sat across from the old man.
He was pretty sure the old man hadn’t aged a day since he’d first seen him twenty years ago. Which would be saying something if he hadn’t looked as old as the hills to begin with. Still, it was hard to see any additional aging on the man who had come to mean so much to him and his family.
“I… told her that her family was looking for her. That they hired me to find her.” His shoulders slumped.
“I always knew you were a terrible charmer.” His grandfather chuckled as he shook his head.
“Hey now.” He smiled quickly. “I get it honestly from you.”
The old man laughed and set his book down, then leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “There’s a time to tell the truth and then there’s a time not to.”
“You think I should have lied to her?” he asked, a little shocked.
“Hell no.” He chuckled. “I think you should have been honest with her from the beginning. But what’s done is done. It’s what happens next that matters.” His grandfather leaned back and took a deep breath. “Did I ever tell you the story of how I met my Elizabeth?”
He thought about it and then shook his head. “No,” he answered.
“It was back in my FBI days…” Reagan was so shocked he spit out the sip of beer he’d drunk.
“Holy shit, you were FBI?” he asked, his eyes running over the old man as if seeing him for the first time.
His grandfather smiled and nodded once again. “Sure was, for almost two decades.” He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes going unfocused. “Your grandmother was my last assignment.” He glanced up at the ceiling as if disappearing into his memories. “Elizabeth was the daughter of a senator. We got word that a political group had targeted several family members.” His eyes returned to Reagan’s. “They killed off four family members of other senators, all supposedly voting against a controversial bill.”
“You were assigned to protect her?” he asked, curious, as his imagination took over.
“Yes.” He sighed. “I failed.” He frowned.
“What?” Reagan leaned forward. “But…”
“Your grandmother was shot.” He closed his eyes as if reliving the horrible day. “The bullet went through the middle of her back, almost paralyzed her.” He leaned over and picked up an old picture of the two of them in their younger days. Reagan had seen the photo all of his life, that and other ones from when his grandmother had been close to three hundred pounds. Still, his grandfather had always looked at the woman as if the sun rose and set just for her. “It limited her movement and when Karen and Julie were born, there were enough complications that it took away the ability for us to have more children. Because of the internal injuries and the babies shifting things around inside her, they nearly killed her when they were born. My Elizabeth had always wanted a dozen kids.” His smile had returned. “I would have given her anything.”
“You retired after…” He let the question hang in the air.
“Yes.” He sighed. “Cashed out my pension, bought and traded some stocks in my friend’s company and…” He shrugged. “Moved back home here, where I grew up, and rescued a few broken kids.” He chuckled. “Had a blast seeing them grow up into strong men and women.” He winked at him, something his grandfather did often.
Reagan’s eyes moved to the ceiling when he heard the water turn off.
“There’s something about this one,” his grandfather said easily. “You’ve never brought home a woman, especially one that’s work.” His grandfather air quoted the last word, and Reagan chuckled.
“Clara is more than work,” he admitted.
“I’m not blind.” His grandfather laughed. “Well…” He stood up and groaned when his back cracked. “I promised your uncle Marcus I’d meet him and Shelly for dinner. Rose is back in town for the weekend, and I’ve suddenly decided to spend t
he night with a beach view.”
His uncle and aunt lived in the same house they purchased shortly after they’d met. The place looked over the Gulf of Mexico. He’d spent many nights himself in one of their guest rooms.
“Thanks.” He stood up and hugged the fragile man. “I love you,” he said as he held on.
“You are a pure joy. Your grandmother would be proud of you, as much as I am.” His grandfather’s wrinkled hand reached up and tapped him gently on the chin. “There’s plenty of food in the ice box. Now, go smooth things over with your woman.”
He chuckled as the old man pulled out his car keys and disappeared out the front door, whistling for the dogs to follow him. He stood inside the screen door and watched the dogs jump into the passenger side of the old truck. His grandfather drove off down the driveway.
“Was that your grandfather?” Clara asked from behind him.
He turned and then swallowed whatever he’d been about to say when he saw her standing in worn bleached shorts and a white tank top that clung to her curves. Her dark hair hung straight, still dripping from the shower.
The sun was setting, and bright hues of pink and yellows were streaming through the windows, playing over her skin and hair, making her skin almost glow. He’d never seen anything more beautiful. He didn’t know what was going to happen in the next few days, but he was pretty sure that even if he had a lifetime to be with her, it wouldn’t be nearly long enough.
Chapter 9
Clara watched Reagan move towards her. His eyes heated with desire, which caused her own body to react. She’d cried herself out in the shower and felt stupid for allowing her emotions to reign.
Now it was something else that controlled her—her desire for Reagan, to be touched again, to be wanted as much as he wanted her. It had been too long since she’d felt something like this.
Without a word, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her until her knees felt like jelly. Then his arms wrapped tightly around her, and he picked her up. She felt her world spin as he moved around the room.
When he bent her down, her eyes opened, and she realized he was laying her down on the sofa in the front room.
“Easy, we’re alone,” he said against her skin. “I just need… this… you.” He sighed as he rested his forehead against hers. “You’re like a drug.”
She knew exactly what he meant. She’d thought the same about him. Even as she told herself that she needed to hear him explain himself, she didn’t want to miss one moment of his touch.
“I want you, too,” she said, running her fingers through his thick curly hair. “It’s been…” She took a breath and met his eyes. “A while.” She shook her head.
“We should talk,” he said, pulling back a little, but she held firm, holding his head close as she tightened her fingers in his hair.
“We will, later,” she promised. “But for now, take me to bed.”
“Clara—” he started, but she leaned up and covered his words of common sense with her mouth. Her hands tugged his T-shirt free of his jeans, running her fingertips over the tight, toned muscles covered by tanned skin. She’d never been with a man like him before. It was obvious that he spent plenty of time in the gym, and she was going to enjoy every moment she had with him. Even if she grew to regret it later.
When he reached for her tank top, she leaned up and helped him pull it over her head. She hadn’t expected to be here with him like this, so she was just wearing a simple white bra. She froze when she remembered she’d skipped pulling on any panties. “Reagan, let’s go—” He covered her lips again.
“Here is fine,” he started, but she shook her head.
“No, I…” Her eyes moved to the open front door.
He chuckled and sat up quickly. “Okay.” He shocked her by hoisting her up into his arms. He moved across the room, nudged the front door shut, and started towards the stairs.
“Aren’t you going to lock it?” she asked. He chuckled instead of answering her, then kissed her again when they hit the landing.
She lost track of where he carried her after that, only surfacing again when her shoulders hit a soft mattress.
“Tell me you have protection,” she said between kisses.
“Yes,” he agreed. He covered her body with his. “God, you feel so good.” He trailed his mouth down her neck as his hands moved over her, lowering to the clasp of her worn shorts. When he tugged them off her hips, he groaned with pleasure. “My god.” He leaned back and ran his eyes over her.
“Reagan,” she said, reaching for him.
“Hang on, I want to worship you for a moment.” He smiled at her. Then with just one fingertip, he trailed a line from her right collarbone to her right hip then slowly crossed over her skin and did the same on the other side. “Perfection,” he whispered.
“I need…” She reached for him again, needing to feel his skin against hers, his hands fully on her, powerful, demanding. Instead, he stayed where he was, his eyes running over her slowly with a slight smile playing on his lips.
She leaned up and placed her lips back over his as she reached for the clasp of his jeans. This time, he let her tug him down until his body covered hers, their mouths fused together as their kisses turned desperate.
She tugged his jeans down and dug her nails into his hips, forcing him closer to her body as she wrapped her legs around him. His hands moved over her skin, warming her until he pulled away. She made a small sound in complaint, but his chuckle stopped her, and she opened her eyes.
He tugged off his jeans and pulled a condom from the nightstand before he came back over her.
“This has nothing to do with my job.” It was almost a growl as his eyes locked with hers.
“No,” she agreed and pulled him back to her.
She arched back as his mouth covered one of her breasts instead of returning to her mouth. Her fingers went to his hair once more as she enjoyed his tongue on her skin. He rolled her nipple and sucked on it until she cried out, wrapping her legs around his.
He moved slightly and slid slowly down her body, trailing his mouth over her ribs, her belly, then burying his face between her legs. She’d never felt anything more wonderful than his mouth on her. Her fists gripped the comforter as she moaned with ecstasy while he pushed a finger into her pussy. She cried out as she lost herself in his touch.
There was nothing more beautiful than slipping into Clara for what he hoped was the first time of many to come. She’d gone lax after a powerful orgasm ripped through her. He’d enjoyed hearing his name on her lips when he’d felt her inner muscles tighten around his fingers.
Now, as he moved further into her, her eyes opened, and she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. Leaning down, he took the sexy swollen lip into his mouth and sucked on it himself. She tasted like honey and summer, and he didn’t think he’d ever want to stop tasting her.
When her fingernails dug into his hips, he started to move, slowly. Her eyes grew huge when he jerked his hips, embedding himself fully into her.
“Reagan…”
He could get used to this, he thought quickly. But then she moved and all thoughts escaped his mind, except the primal need to please.
“Okay?” he asked a while later.
“More than okay.” She sighed and snuggled into his chest. “I’ve gone without that for too long.”
He chuckled as his hand roamed lightly over her lower back. “I’m very happy to oblige again anytime.”
“I’ll take you up on that.” She leaned up and looked down into his eyes. “But I have to admit, I’ll probably need some food before we try that again.”
“I’m with you on that one. I was told there was plenty of food in the fridge. I’ll bet one of my mother’s lasagnas is in the freezer.” He started to get up but took a little time to kiss her softly beforehand. “There, that should hold us over until after we get some food.”
He pulled on his jeans and watched her hunt around for her clothes.
“I th
ink they’re downstairs,” he said with a smirk. “Here.” He handed her one of his T-shirts. “That should work for now.” She pulled it over her head, and he smiled when it hit mid-thigh on her. “Sexy as hell,” he said under his breath.
He found a large pan of frozen lasagna and, after putting it in the oven, found a bag of chips and some guacamole to munch on until the food was hot.
“Want a beer?” he asked her, his head still in the fridge.
“Sure,” she answered from behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and watched her pick up her shorts and top from the living room floor, where he’d tossed them earlier. Instead of pulling them on, she sat them on the small table near the bottom of the stairs. She picked up a picture in a frame that sat there.
“Is this you?” she asked, holding the image towards him.
He glanced over and laughed at the image of his father and Uncle Marcus with their arms slung around each other’s shoulders, sitting on the porch swing they had built together. The one that still hung out there now. “No, that’s my dad. The month he came to live at the Graytons.”
“How did he break his arm?” she asked, setting the photo back down.
His mood darkened. “His old man—his real one, I mean—was a boxer and liked to use his kid as a punching bag.” He had turned away from her when he’d said this. He opened the bag of chips and tossed some into a large bowl. “His past is the reason my dad started Haven House, a home for wayward children.”
“Your parents were raised here? Together?” she asked, causing him to turn around again. She was holding another picture, looking down at it. “This is your mother, right?” She pointed to the image of the entire family together shortly after they had all come to live there.
“Yes.” He smiled. “They were both adopted by the Graytons, having come from messed up families.”
“Your mother from the cult, your father from an abusive father.” She set the picture frame down and walked towards him. “And yet, they all look like they belong together.”