A Just Deception (18 page)

Oh, Lord, she thought, wanting to find the nearest closet to hide in. He didn’t get it. She reached and brought him down to her, brushed her lips against his. “I’m fine without it. I’m used to it.”

Rolling to the side, he propped himself on one elbow and moved his hands over her breasts. “I don’t believe that.”

The heat of his hands drew her closer. “But I love you touching me.”

He kissed the top of her head and glided his hands down her torso. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Typical man, needing to prove his point. What was it with men? They just couldn’t accept that she wasn’t equipped for an orgasm every time.

She grabbed his roaming hand. “It’s not about you not doing something. It’s me.”

“I don’t understand.”

The way he focused on her, told her he wouldn’t give up until he comprehended the problem. She blew out a breath, prepared for more humiliation.

She shook her head and swallowed the bile in her throat. She hated this. Hated the shame that came with being honest.

“Iz?”

Here goes.
Another first. “With Kendrick, I would have orgasms. At the time, I was too young to understand what they were and he told me it happened when people enjoy sex.”

“Son of a bitch,” Peter said.

She ignored that and pushed forward. He wanted to know and she’d already started, so she might as well finish. “It’s hard for me to think about those times. It makes me sick because I know I was turned-on, and I’m ashamed of it. How could I have liked it?”

He sat up. “Honey, you were a little girl. You didn’t know the human body reacts to that kind of…well…stimulation. You didn’t get off because you liked it. You got off because it’s the way the body is supposed to respond. And nobody had the right to mess with that.”

“I know, but I’ve spent years separating my mind and body. When I have an orgasm, the shame strangles me. I don’t want to live with that reminder. It’s easier to disconnect.”

Peter stared at her for a solid minute. He wasn’t running for the door yet, so that was a good sign. She had to admit she felt some relief after having shared that nasty little secret.

“You deserve better than this, Peter. I’m broken and will frustrate the hell out of you. There will be times when you think I’m getting close to an orgasm and—
poof!
—it’ll be gone. You’ll feel like a failure and I’ll feel guilty. It’s a vicious cycle.”

He sat back against the pillows. “Here we go again. You’re trying to scare me off.”

“I’m not. It’s the truth.”

“It’s
your
truth. How about you let me decide how I feel?”

“I wasn’t—”

He held up a finger. “Sshh! One step at a time. Do you agree that you should let me decide how I feel?”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, of course, but that’s—”

“Sshh!”

Insane. He had to be insane.

When he leaned over, put his arm around her and pulled her close, she didn’t fight it. She simply rested her head against his chest and enjoyed the comfort of being held. No shame.

“One step at a time, Iz. We’ll figure it out.”

Sunlight streaked between the cracks in the window blinds, and Isabelle concentrated on remaining still. Peter slept soundly beside her, his chest rising and falling just inches in front of her face. They had fallen asleep, arms and legs entangled, and she found she didn’t so much mind waking up that way.

She breathed in slowly and the scent of him closed in as her brain and body sent conflicting messages.

Ignore it.

Knowing she’d told him her secret terrified her. But she liked it. Sort of. Why deny it? She had handed over more weakness by admitting her orgasm issues and he didn’t make her feel like a freak.

Damned Peter. Screwing up her life. Literally. His eyes popped open.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he said, grinning like a madman.

“Morning.”

She snuggled into him.

“I can hear you thinking,” he said. “You okay?”

“I am.” And, at that moment, she was. “Thank you for taking the time to understand.”

“I need to understand the problem before I can tackle it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“So,” Peter said. “Today’s the day. Moving into the compound.”

The compound. She didn’t want to. No. She wanted to stay in this bed, with Peter, and not think about the blasted compound.

Then again. The sooner she got in, the sooner she could go home and figure out where he fit in her life. Not to mention saving her job. A job that her uncle, via voice mail, threatened to relieve her of unless she returned his calls.

“Yep. Today’s the day.”

“Before you go, I’m gonna teach you how to pick a lock. That’s one skill that always comes in handy.”

Isabelle nodded. “I’m up for that. I’d also like to get a workout in before I leave. It’ll relax me. Get me in the right frame of mind. Maybe I’ll go down to that gym you guys found in town.”

“Sure.” Peter rolled sideways and put his feet on the floor. “Billy will probably go. Time it so he gets there first.”

“Why?”

He turned back to her. “The guy that owns the place is a meathead and tends to hover around the women. He’ll be all over you, so unless you want that, Billy will make sure the meathead stays away.”

If ever a comment deserved an eye roll it was that one. “You know I can take care of myself.”

“Yes, but possibly beating the crap out of the guy, and calling attention to yourself when you’re supposed to be undercover, won’t make your buddy Sampson happy.”

She hadn’t thought of that. And just to make sure Peter didn’t start channeling his inner caveman, she’d better be up front about the agent’s presence in Ohio.

“Speaking of Sampson, how did your meeting go?”

Peter shrugged. “He wants me to stay out of his case or he’ll lock me up. He’ll come around after I start feeding him information he can’t get legally.”

Izzy sat up. The cold air smacked into her and she contemplated burrowing back. “Please don’t get in trouble over this. I couldn’t stand it if you wound up in custody.”

He quickly snapped off one of the bright smiles that transformed him from a regular Joe to movie-star handsome. “Not a chance, Iz. Sampson gets no free passes when it comes to you.”

A disturbing tension buzzed. Free passes? What the hell did that mean? “I’m not sure I understand.”

He let out a sarcastic laugh. “Izzy, come on. You’re telling me you haven’t noticed he’d like to nail you? He practically admitted it to me.”

Wait. They were discussing her? Talking about sex? With her? Couldn’t be. Peter wouldn’t do that. Would he?

“I…I…hmm.” She gave her head a hard shake.

The pressure of the blood barreling inside her made her head pound. She had to relax. Think about this logically before she tore into him. Could Peter have done this to her?

“What?” he asked.

She breathed in, jabbed both hands at him. “I’m trying to make sense of this. I’m busy turning my life upside down and you two are talking about who gets to have sex with me? Are you
kidding
?
I
decide who gets to have sex with me.”

An agonizing panic shot up the center of her ribcage.

“No, no, no,” Peter said. “You are
not
gonna do this. I’ve learned a few things from our prior arguments, and you are
not
going to make this about me treating you like a sexual object.”

“I don’t do that.”

“Actually, you do. It’s a defense mechanism. It’s how you push people away and I’m not biting this time.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but he held up two hands. She closed her mouth.

“Listen up,” Peter said. “Sampson and I did not, I repeat, did
not,
discuss who gets to have sex with you. I wouldn’t do that and you know it. The conversation had nothing to do with sex.” He turned so his body faced her. “I don’t think you’re an object. You’re smart and caring and driven to do what’s right. Most people don’t even understand the concept. The thing with Sampson was just me being an asshole. I can’t stand the idea of anyone else touching you. So, you can be mad at me and call me a caveman for wanting to keep you for myself, but that’s it.”

The quiet of his voice soothed her barking temper and she closed her eyes, let the feeling fill her. Allowing herself to get emotional about Peter had been her first mistake, a slippery slope. And she couldn’t pinpoint where she’d let go of the anchor to her emotional stability. Even if it was only a little bit of a slip, she’d permitted it.

“Iz?”

She scooted forward, threw her arms around his shoulders and hung on tight. “I’m stuck, Peter. It’s like you’re trying to drag me out of a window and I’m digging in, fighting it because I’m terrified of what’s on the other side. That’s never happened to me. I never wanted to go to the other side.”

“I think you
want
to be terrified,” he said into her ear. “I think you’re sick of Creepy Izzy having the power. And, for whatever reason, I’m the lucky guy who happened to be in the right place at the right time.”

She rolled her eyes at that one. How the hell hadn’t he given up on her yet? “You call this lucky? You need more help than I thought.”

Peter sat back and entwined her fingers with his. “The only way to get past the fear is to experience it. It won’t kill you, Iz. It
won’t
. It sucks, but once you beat it, you’ll be free.”

Free. She wanted to be emotionally free. More than anything she wanted to feel, really feel, the highs, maybe the lows too, of loving a man and being loved in return.

She sighed, tilting her head to the side. “I want to tell you I’m trying, but that sounds weak.”

“I know you’re trying. Let’s take it slow.”

That sounded nice because this psychological warfare, if she wasn’t careful, would suck her dry and leave nothing to put into a relationship. She squeezed his hand. “I like that idea.”

He cracked off another movie-star grin and stood to stretch his chiseled body. “Great.”

When he started toward the bathroom she watched him go, enjoyed the way the taut muscles in his back rippled, but something nagged at her. His insecurities about Sampson’s attraction to her couldn’t be ignored. She walked to the bathroom, pushed open the partially closed door and pretended to ignore the fact that he was peeing.

He shook his head. “How about a little privacy?”

“I have to meet with Sampson today. Do you want to go with me?”

He flushed the toilet and moved to the sink to wash his hands, but his eyes stayed on her, checking out her naked body from head to toe.

“No.”

“Peter, I have nothing to hide. Particularly at the moment.” She laughed at her own joke, enjoying the ease of having a conversation with him while butt naked. “I don’t mind if you want to come with me.”

After drying his hands, he grabbed her for a lip-crushing kiss. “It’s okay. Sampson and I will work it out. Having me there will only piss him off. If he makes a move on you though, tell him he’s too late.” Peter laughed. “He’ll
love
that.”

A little zip went up her arms. How high school. Was she seriously turned-on by his possessiveness? Peter Jessup, caveman-at-large. “Should I tell him about you coming to the compound?”

He nudged her out of the bathroom and smacked her on the ass. “Not unless you want him to blow a gasket. Tell him after I’m there. There’s nothing he can do about it then.”

Withholding information wouldn’t make Sampson happy, but Isabelle knew having Peter inside the compound would help. And the more help she received, the sooner they’d find out what happened to that missing girl. “Okay. I’ll do it your way.”

“Good,” he said. “Now get back in bed so I can screw you stupid.
Again
. My work is never done.”

Isabelle wandered into Maisie’s Family Restaurant a little after three o’clock that afternoon and spotted Wade Sampson sitting in a corner booth toward the back. She’d only ever seen him in a suit, but today he wore a crisp white pullover and no jacket. Trying to blend in.
Good luck with that, GQ boy
.

Maisie’s, on the other hand, resembled every other fifties-style diner and came complete with vinyl red booths along the walls and mini-jukeboxes on the tables. Ten or twelve worn veneer tables sat between the lunch counter and the booths.

Most of the tables were empty, but two elderly men seated at the counter gave her the once-over. She smiled at them and they both hooted.

To think she’d opted for a plain T-shirt and baggy shorts to avoid attention.

She slid into the booth across from Wade and he nodded. “Ms. DeRosa.”

“I thought we were doing away with the formalities.”

He grinned. “You are correct,
Isabelle
.”

“Thank you.”

A server dressed in a bright pink polyester dress with a plastic nametag that read Joy sidled up to the table. The capper had to be the matching lipstick and electric blue eye shadow. The place was a throwback, but the comforting sense of simplicity couldn’t be ignored.

“More coffee, handsome?” Joy asked Wade.

A slick smile stretched across his face. “You bet. Thank you.”

“No problem, hon.”

After Joy took their order, Isabelle rolled her eyes. “Shouldn’t you be trying to keep a low profile? I mean, flirting with the waitress?”

“I’m being nice.”

“Please.” She waved him off. “What do you need from me?”

He sat forward and leaned his elbows on the table. “Have you been to the compound today?”

“Just came from there. I’m all settled in.”

“Good. Anything you can tell me?”

She sucked in a breath and released it. “I tried to open my bedroom window. It’s sealed shut.”

Wade stayed silent.

“Plus,” she said, “all the bedrooms have double key locks on them. Not exactly comforting.”

“If they’re running a sex trade operation, they probably lock the girls in there with johns. Who has the keys?”

“Courtney told me Seth has them. No shock there because he seems like a control freak anyway. Oh, and I refuse to drink the tap water because it’s making the women pregnant.”

Wade screwed up his lips.

“Go ahead and laugh, but I’ve met at least four pregnant women there. Two live in the main house and two live in the cabins. And I’m not done meeting everyone yet. I’ll try and get to the others tomorrow.”

“What about Courtney?” he asked, reaching for the container of multicolored sweetener packets.

“She helped me move my things in. Her bedroom is on the other side of mine and we have a shared bathroom. She’s either incredibly neat or Seth does white-glove checks on all the rooms. He definitely has creepy tendencies.”

Wade stopped messing with the sweetener packets. “How so?”

“He’s always on the girls about minding their manners, yet he stares at my chest like he’s hypnotized.”

Of course, Wade’s gaze moved to her chest. Typical man. “Stop it.”

He laughed. “Sorry. Reflex.”

“Yeah, well, knock it off.”

Joy stepped up, refilled his mug, slapped an iced tea in front of Isabelle, turned on her squeaky sneakers and left.
That Joy is a regular queen of efficiency
.

After she watched Wade dump three packets of sugar in his coffee, Isabelle’s stomach rolled.

“You should get close to Courtney,” he said.

“Why?”

He cocked his head a second and clucked his tongue. Isabelle remembered him telling her he didn’t share much information because it could put his sources in danger.

“Yeah, I get it. You don’t want me blurting out something I shouldn’t know, but I want to fast-track this assignment. My job is in jeopardy, and I need to be back in two weeks. Just tell me what you’ve got. I’ll be sure to control all babbling.”

With a sip of his coffee, Sampson contemplated her, those dark eyes narrowing. He set the cup down. “She has an arrest record.”

Of all the things Isabelle expected to hear, that wasn’t one of them. She slouched back in the booth, her bare legs sticking to the cheap vinyl. “For what?”

“Four months ago she stole a protein bar and bottled water from a convenience store.”

“She was pregnant four months ago.”

“Yes. She told the local P.D. her boyfriend took off and, since she’d been laid off from her job a month earlier, she had no money.”

“She was hungry.” A sudden anger flamed up her throat. “Trying to take care of herself, and her baby, and they
arrested
her?”

Wade held up his hands. “I know it sucks, but she broke the law.”

Deputy Do-Right. “They couldn’t let her slide on a three-dollar theft? She’s twenty years old. She was probably terrified.”

“Don’t bitch at
me
. I’m telling you what I know.”

She leaned forward again. “Sorry. What else?”

“She caught a judge who was a single mother. The judge gave her probation, but told her she needed counseling to figure out how to take care of herself and a baby.”

“I like that judge,” Isabelle said.

“Courtney went to a center called—” he pulled a notepad from beside him on the booth and checked his notes. “—Tomorrow’s Family Network. They sent her to the Organization for the Underprivileged.”