running from the past Page 8

“Listen, honey, we need to talk. How is it possible that…”

“Does it matter?” she answered his unfinished question.

He was still curious how she’d been a virgin, but she was right. It didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that she was with him right then. His cock, which had been at half mast, lengthened again as she stretched her body against his. Tough shit for him. She wasn’t anywhere near ready to go again. But she would be tomorrow. Thank God tomorrow was Saturday. He had a few things to take care of but it wasn’t going to happen. One of his men could cover for him.

He’d been ruthlessly driving himself for the past five years and he was taking the time to enjoy the beautiful woman who had literally fallen into his path.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her half on top of him. A few minutes later, the steady rise and fall of her chest was the only sign she was alive. Her breathing was so light he could barely hear anything else above the sound of his own erratic heartbeat.

He stared at the ceiling, knowing it was useless to try to sleep. She’d thrown a satiny leg over his lower body and he could almost swear his cock had grown another inch. He inwardly groaned and ran a hand through her long dark hair, caressing her back. Morning couldn’t come soon enough.

* * * * *

Blood. Too much blood. Crimson pools expanded around their lifeless bodies and two pairs of dead eyes stared right at her. Through her. Judging her. Biting her knuckles, she held back a scream. She mustn’t make a sound.

Before she could move from her hiding place, he turned and saw her peeking through the window of the pool house. His eyes turned red, like the devil. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw the gleaming knife in his hand but she couldn’t tear her gaze away from his glowing eyes. She opened her mouth to scream but no sound would come.

She was going to die.

“Emma. Emma, honey, wake up.”

Blackness twisted her thoughts but when she opened her eyes, Caleb stared down at her, concern etched in every groove of his tanned face.

It had been a dream. Everything had just been a dream. Ricardo hadn’t seen her and she was still alive.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered and sat up.

Beads of sweat trickled down her back but she didn’t shrug off his tight grip on her shoulders. His touch somehow grounded her and that’s what she needed when it felt her heart would explode from her chest.

She wrapped her arms around her knees and put her head down. Caleb didn’t speak as he rubbed her back in soothing rhythmic motions. Visions of blood and carnage clawed at her brain. She wished the images would just leave her alone. She wished… She wished a lot of things about her life were different, including where she came from. If her father hadn’t been such a scumbag, she might have ended up differently. She might even have been married and had kids by now. Like a normal person. What was normal anyway? She wished she knew.

“Do you feel like talking about it?” Caleb’s deep voice brought her back to reality.

She lifted her head and turned to look at him. Over the years, she’d gotten pretty good at weeding out bullshitters. Being the daughter of a man who lied with practically every breath had its advantages. She might not be able to read Caleb most of the time but the concern in his voice and in his piercing eyes was real. Very real.

She wanted to tell him everything but if he knew who she was he’d run screaming in the other direction. He was a good man. That much she knew. For once in her life, she decided to be selfish. She wanted to enjoy everything about him before she had to leave.

“No, I just had a stupid dream, that’s all.” She twisted from her current position to face him.

She felt exposed and a little strange sitting Indian-style and naked in front of him but he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he was completely hard. Her eyes widened and she swallowed so loudly she was sure he’d heard her.

“Oh.” He sat in the same position as her so that their knees touched. His cock was still as big—maybe bigger—than last night. It lengthened toward his navel pulsing, as if it had a life of its own. How had it ever fitted inside her?

“Don’t worry, it’s been like that since you went to sleep.” She tore her eyes away and forced herself to meet his gaze. A wry smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

“You can’t be serious,” she gasped.

His small smile fell, belying the truth.

“Is that normal?” She inwardly cringed as soon as she asked the question. She didn’t want him thinking she was criticizing him in any way. Especially not after last night.

Instead of being offended, he chuckled. “No but ever since I laid eyes on you it seems to be a permanent condition. For better or worse.”

“Maybe we should do something about it then.” Where had that come from?

His eyes widened at her words. Hell, she was a little surprised at herself but her time was limited and she wanted to soak up as much of Caleb as she could.

“Maybe we should.” He leaned forward and covered her mouth with his. His tongue traced her sensitive lips, biting and licking but he pulled away and stood just as she leaned in for more.

“What are you doing?”

“Wait here. For one second.” He grabbed a condom from his nightstand, pivoted and disappeared through the bathroom door. Seconds later, she heard the sound of running water and understood what his intentions were. He appeared in the doorway, silhouetted by the bright light and her stomach lurched. He really was a perfect specimen of man. All steel muscle. Not an inch of fat anywhere on that lean form.

Momentary panic clutched her throat. Being naked in his bedroom, with barely any light at all was one thing but being naked with him under the bright lights beckoning from the other room was something else entirely. She swallowed her hesitation and walked toward him. The woodsy, spicy, male scent that was all Caleb enveloped her the moment her feet came in contact with the cool tile.

The bathroom was definitely masculine. No frilly hand towels, decorative soaps, or scented candles. Neutral sage green walls, a chocolate brown throw rug and matching striped green-and-brown towels hung from the towel rack. An electric razor sitting by one of the two sinks was the only sign that he actually used the bathroom. Steam had risen from the walk-in shower, covering the elongated mirror in a hazy mist and for that, she was thankful. She was nervous enough about Caleb seeing her naked. The thought of seeing them entwined together brought heat to her cheeks.

“Are you okay?” Caleb’s deep voice grounded her.

“Yes.” Oh yeah, she was just fine. If Caleb did to her what he did last night, she’d be more than okay.

Her body was a little sore but nothing could override the pleasure she knew she’d experience. He led her to the shower but instead of immediately jumping her, as she’d expected—and kind of hoped—he positioned her under the bursting jet streams. The hot water massaged her head, neck, shoulders and back. He stood back for a moment and in the bright light, she got a full close up of his lean form.

“So what’s the story behind the butterfly tattoo on your back?” His question took her off guard, but she shrugged and tried to ignore his intense scrutiny. “I got it in college on Spring Break my sophomore year. It doesn’t mean anything.” That wasn’t exactly true, but she wasn’t planning to spill her guts to him anytime soon. She’d gotten it as a tiny symbol to remind herself that she wouldn’t always be under Ricardo’s thumb. That she’d eventually get her freedom.

And now she had, even if it might only be for a little while.

She was thankful he didn’t ask any more questions. Instead, Caleb lathered up a washcloth and began systematically washing her arms, her breasts, her stomach and when he reached between her legs, she couldn’t take her eyes off the picture they made.

He was so much bigger and more powerful than she was, yet he handled her with such gentleness and delicacy that a strange lump settled in her throat. His cheekbones were flushed under his tanned skin as he slowly and deliberately stroked between her legs again. The soft material of the cloth and his reverent stroking lit her entire body on fire. It took a moment for her to realize he was watching her every expression as he touched her. She’d been so focused on his rough hands that she hadn’t been paying attention to his face.

Without saying a word but keeping his gaze fixed on hers, he placed the cloth on the built-in bench. Before she could guess what he had planned, he leaned forward and licked her clit. Involuntarily she tried to take a step back but he gripped both of her thighs and continued torturing her with his tongue. Heat and moisture pooled between her legs and she knew he must be able to taste her wetness.

She ran her fingers through his soaked hair and gripped his head for support. She was going to come before he’d even gotten inside her. Rivulets of water ran down her chest and his back, creating ribbons and streams along both their bodies. It was the most sensuous, surreal thing she’d ever seen. A hot man between her legs, pleasuring her, wanting her for her, not what she could do for him or his career.

That thought alone almost sent her over the edge. A low, guttural moan sounded from somewhere deep inside her. Somewhere she hadn’t known existed. She was so close to climaxing she almost hurt.

But, Caleb had other plans. “Not yet sweetheart. I want to be in you when you come.”

He stood and joined her under the waterfall, dropping kisses on her forehead, cheeks, nose and everywhere in between. Her pussy clenched, waiting for him but he seemed bent on torturing her. It took all her control not to beg him for his cock. She decided to take the initiative and ripped open the condom packet he’d brought. Putting one on a man was something foreign, but she found she enjoyed rolling it over his cock.

When she was finished, her hands and fingers traced the scars along his chest and shoulders as he reached for something behind her. “Where did you get all these? From riding horses?”

He chuckled and shook his head as he poured shampoo into his hands. “Turn around.”

She complied but wasn’t finished. “You didn’t answer me.”