Protecting Tricia (12 page)

“You miss them.”

“Of course I do. But there’s a part of me that’s glad
they’re not here right now. They would be terribly disappointed in me.” She ran
a hand through her hair and added, “Right now
I’m
terribly disappointed
in me.”

“You shouldn’t be.” He leaned back and braced his elbows on
the porch behind him. “You got yourself out of a bad situation. It took a lot
of courage for you to leave. That’s something to be proud of.”

“I shouldn’t have been in the situation in the first place.”

“I’m afraid I can’t argue with you there. I’m curious to
know, though, why you stayed as long as you did.”

“He’d never hit me before.” She glanced over at him. “Plus,
there was the matter of the little criminal act.”

“So prior to that everything was peachy?” He couldn’t hold
back the cynicism in his tone when he asked the question.

“Not hardly. Things were good at first, but after we moved
to Florida they changed.”

“Why do you think it didn’t happen until you moved to
Florida?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do,” he coaxed. “What did you have here that you
didn’t have there?”

She considered the question for a moment. “Friends.”

“Exactly. If he had treated you like shit here, it would have
been easier for you to leave. But once he got you a thousand miles away it was
a little more difficult.” He paused a moment for the words to sink in before
asking, “Why didn’t you have any friends in Florida? You were there for a
while, and you’re a friendly person. Why didn’t you make any?”

She drew in a deep breath. “Because Matt discouraged it. He
always did something to ruin it.”

Clint had suspected it. “And by insisting that you not
work…”

“He ensured I wouldn’t have any money. That I’d be totally
dependent on him financially.”

Clint nodded. “So, how did things change after you moved?”

“Matt became…difficult. He was always angry about something.
He could be, and he was, incredibly cruel at times. But it was never physical.”

Clint didn’t reply. He simply waited patiently, wondering if
she would continue.

“He paid attention real well. He figured out what mattered
to me, and then it used it to hurt me.”

“Such as? Give me an example.” Although he didn’t
necessarily want to know the details, he imagined she hadn’t shared them with
anyone and suspected it might help her to finally talk about it.

She captured a piece of her hair and twisted it around her
finger. “He got mad at me once and ripped up every single picture in my photo
album. He did a good job too. The pieces were so tiny, it would have been
impossible to put them back together. They were irreplaceable.”

The sadness in her voice caused his heart to twist.

“Those pictures meant a lot to me, and Matt knew it, so
that’s what he used to hurt me. And the truly sad thing is, I let him treat me
that way. I allowed it to happen. So that makes me just as responsible for it
as he was.”

“Bullshit,” he said, practically spitting the word out. “You
are not responsible.”

She shrugged but didn’t reply.

“Look at me,” he ordered. He waited until her gaze met his
before continuing. “You are not responsible,” he repeated, emphasizing each
word.

She shook her head, breaking the eye contact. “To a certain
degree, I am.”

“Tricia, damn it—”

“I didn’t have to stay, I could have left. I could have
found a way. But I do know I’m not responsible for his actions.”

“Damn right.” He lifted the bottle to his lips and took a
long pull from it, hoping it would help douse the blazing fury inside him.

“But for a long time, he had me believing I was. If I’d only
do what I was supposed to, he wouldn’t be angry. If I was only more, then he’d
be happy.”

“More?”

“Yeah. More understanding, supportive, intelligent, prettier.”

“You are all those things.”

Her lips lifted into a small, cynical smile. “Sure I am.”

“He brainwashed you.”

“Brainwashed?” She chuckled. “It wasn’t a cult, Clint.”

“Yes, it was. It was a cult of one. He wanted to control
your every movement, every action, every thought. Tell me I’m wrong,” he urged.

She lifted a shoulder. “I can’t. Because you’re right. I
don’t like to admit it though. After all, if you allow yourself to be
brainwashed, then you’re not a very strong person, are you?”

“Tricia, you can take the most beautiful woman in the world
and isolate her, put her in a room all by herself, and go in every day and tell
her ‘you’re so ugly,’ and before long she’ll start believing it.”

“How do you know so much about it? You seem to be awfully
knowledgeable about the subject.”

Clint shrugged. He tipped the empty bottle and rolled the
bottom rim back and forth on the porch.

“It’s just common sense.” Plus, after the incident with
Kelly, in an effort to understand what had happened to his sister, he’d learned
more about abused women than he’d ever wanted to know.

Tricia nodded. “Right. So if I’d been stronger and smarter,
it wouldn’t have happened. I would have realized what was going on sooner and
put an end to it.”

With a sigh, Clint righted the bottle. Sitting up, he rubbed
a hand over his forehead and dragged it through his hair. She was twisting his
words all around. For a split second he wondered if he should stop now before
he did any more damage. But he couldn’t leave things this way. He had to make
her understand.

He looked over at her, his gaze meeting hers. “You didn’t
deserve to be treated like that. You are a strong, beautiful, smart, kind
woman. Don’t ever forget it. And don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.”

For a long moment, she did nothing more than stare at him
silently. Then she stood and walked toward him. When she reached him, she
straddled him, her legs pressing against his upper thighs. She placed her hands
on his shoulders and leaned toward him. He drew back, and her actions
immediately stopped at his retreat.

“Tricia, I didn’t say those things to…get close to you.” It
was important—damn important—she knew that.

“I know.” She stroked her hand up the side of his neck,
brushed a finger along the rim of his ear. “But don’t you want to get close to
me?” Her tongue peeked out to sweep over her lips. “I want you to. I want you
to kiss me and touch me and—”

Her words came to an abrupt halt when his mouth covered
hers. He nudged her lips with his tongue, demanding entrance. She obliged
without hesitation, and that small act of compliance, acceptance, drove him right
over the edge of sanity.

A groan sounded from deep in his throat as he pulled her
closer against him. When he stood, she wrapped her legs tightly around his
waist, and he groaned again. He turned and headed for the door with every
intention of making
her
groan. And moan and plead and beg. Before the
night was over, he’d have it all.

* * * *

Matt leaned against a tree and watched the display with
disgust. It was all he could do not to storm down to the house and rip those
two apart. The fact that another man dared to touch what belonged to him had
his blood boiling. His fists clenched as he imagined the satisfaction of
slamming them into Clint Owens’s face. He actually took a step toward the house
before he managed to stop himself.

He needed to wait. This wasn’t the right time. He’d been
watching them for days, too long for him to blow it now. He was a patient man,
he could continue to wait. When the time was perfect, when Tricia was alone and
defenseless, then he’d make his move.

Once Matt had reined in his anger, he reconsidered Clint’s
position. Matt didn’t suppose he could really be angry with Clint. After all,
what man wouldn’t take something that was so blatantly offered to him? And even
from Matt’s vantage point in the distance, with nothing more than the moon
providing light, it was clear that it was Tricia who had done the offering.
Clint had simply accepted. Couldn’t blame the man for that. Couldn’t even
really find him guilty of taking another man’s property because no doubt Tricia
had fed him a line of crap about how their relationship was over.

As if it would ever be over.

Clearly all the blame and guilt was Tricia’s. The woman was
entirely too free with her favors, showing absolutely no restraint. Once he had
her back home where she belonged, he’d teach her some. He’d teach her a great
many things. Obedience was yet another lesson she desperately needed to learn.

These were lessons she should have learned long ago, but
apparently he’d been too easy on her, had let her get away with too much, to
the point where she showed no respect for him or the position he held in their
relationship.

Well, not anymore. Changes would be implemented, and when he
was done with her, she wouldn’t even go to the bathroom without asking his
permission first.

He smiled at the thought as he turned and begin hiking
toward the road. Since he wouldn’t be able to retrieve Tricia tonight, he might
go see if he could find Candy. She had been most helpful when he’d arrived in
town—confirming Tricia’s presence, even giving him directions to Clint’s house.
Maybe he’d repay her with a night of sex. She wasn’t his type—much too bold and
outspoken for his taste—but for his purposes tonight, she’d do.

By the time they reached the bedroom, Tricia’s body was one
huge mass of longing. She ached and throbbed in places that had been dormant
for years.

Clint pried her legs from around his waist, and her feet hit
the floor. He rained hot, scorching, continuous kisses over her face, her
throat, her neck.

His hands moved to the buttons of her shirt. When he fumbled
with them, he growled in frustration. Pausing, he took a deep breath, then once
again attempted to unfasten the buttons. Still he made no progress.

“Damn it!” As he said the words he grabbed the fabric of her
shirt in his fists and yanked. The buttons popped off and flew across the room,
making a pinging sound as they slammed against walls and furniture.

Tricia gasped, taking an involuntary step backward. Her eyes
opening wide in surprise, she stared down at her shirt in disbelief and then
lifted her head to look up at Clint.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, his tone gentle and soothing. He
cupped her cheek with his hand. “I got carried away. I’m sorry.”

She placed her hand over his. His fingers were callused and
rough, but his touch incredibly tender. She reached out to stroke his chest,
and his body shook under her hand. It shook as if it were filled with pent-up
passion, straining for the freedom it was being denied. He hadn’t made any
movement to close the gap between them. He just waited. Waited for her.

Her lips curved upward slightly. “A little impatient, are
we?” And that impatience, rather than scaring her, made her feel powerful.

“Just a little.” His thumb stroked her face. “Could be I’m
afraid you might change your mind.”

Although his words were spoken lightly, almost teasingly,
she nevertheless felt the need to reassure him. Turning her face, she kissed
his palm. “I won’t.”

“Thank God.”

Finally, he closed the gap between them. His lips brushed
over hers in the softest of kisses as he eased her shirt off and tossed it on
the floor. With one quick, expert flick, he released the hook of her bra. He
slid it down her arms and pitched it to the side. When he cupped her breast in
his hand, kneading gently, it set every nerve ending in her body ablaze.

Her hands dropped to the front of his jeans. Within seconds
she had them undone and was shoving them down his legs. He was kind enough to
assist her by kicking out of them when they hit the floor. Then he reciprocated
by stripping her of her own jeans.

Lowering her to the bed, his lips blazed a path from her
mouth, over her jaw, down her throat to her breasts. When he stroked his tongue
over her nipple, she moaned and arched her back, pressing her flesh even closer
to his mouth.

“Tell me what you want,” he demanded huskily.

She was so focused on what she was feeling it took a few
moments for the words to penetrate her fuddled mind. She shook her head to
clear it and tried to form a coherent sentence.

“I want you,” was the best she was able to come up with.

“I need specifics. Tell me exactly what you want. What do
you like?”

She rubbed a hand over her face. Why was he talking so much?
What she wanted was less talk and more action. “You know what I like.”

“It’s been years, honey. I thought you might have discovered
a few more likes during that time. And I want to be sure to hit them all.” He
stroked a thumb leisurely back and forth over her hardened nipple.

“You’re doing pretty good so far,” she choked out.

He chuckled, his lips returning to hers. “Is that all the
help you’re going to give me?”

“You don’t need any help. You’re wonderful, incredible,
fantastic, an expert at bringing a woman pleasure.” As she spoke, she pushed
against his shoulder, urging him onto his back. Straddling his waist, she
grinned down at him.

“Laying it on a bit thick, aren’t you?” he teased.

“I like thick,” she drawled in her most exaggerated,
seductive voice.

“You do, huh?” Amusement laced his voice. “Tell me what else
you like.”

She rubbed a hand over his chest, scraped a nail across his
nipple, smiling at the groan that came from his throat. “You just want to hear
me talk dirty,” she said.

“Well, there is that.”

With a slight chuckle, she leaned over to nuzzle his neck.
Using her lips, teeth, and tongue, she worked her way down his neck to his
chest. His breathing quickened, and the rise and fall of his chest increased.
His hands massaged her rear gently, and when she flicked her tongue over his
nipple, his fingers dug into her flesh. She dragged her tongue over his nipple
again, and his hands moved to her waist.

“My turn now,” he demanded.

In one quick movement, he shifted her body so that her
breasts were suspended directly above his mouth. With a light press on her
back, he indicated that he wanted her to close the gap between them.

He closed his mouth over the tip of her breast and sucked
greedily. Desire coursed through her veins, hard and fast. Releasing her
breast, he caught the hardened nipple between his teeth. Fire shot through her
body, and she moaned in appreciation.

“You like that, huh?” he muttered.

Incapable of speech, she simply moaned her acknowledgment.
He flicked his tongue over the nipple then moved his attention to her other
breast.

By the time he released her, she was practically ready to
beg for fulfillment. Shifting her body down, she ran her hands over his chest,
past his stomach, stopping when she reached a nice, hard bulge. One that
virtually guaranteed complete satisfaction. And she wanted it now.

She had barely curled her fingers over the waistband of his
underwear when his hand closed over hers, stopping her progress.

“Uh-uh,” he whispered. “Not yet. I’m not done with you.”

“I can’t take much more.”

“Yes, you can.”

Placing his hands on her waist, he pulled her up until his
head was positioned between her legs. As he kissed and nibbled the inside of
her thigh, the stubble on his chin rasped against her flesh. His hands moved to
her hips, and she felt his lips curve into a smile when he reached the sides of
her panties.

“Easy access,” he murmured, toying with the ribbons holding
the sides of her panties together. “Damn, I love these things. I’m going to
have to buy you a whole drawer full of them.” He tugged on the ribbons to
release them, then tossed the garment to the side. “I’ve been dreaming about
doing that ever since I saw those.”

He stroked a finger over the center of her vagina. Tracing a
path slowly up and down, time and time again, until her breath was coming in
short, fast gasps.

She was practically panting and on the verge of begging when
he finally cupped her rear with his hands and settled her over his mouth. When
his tongue stroked her, then delved deep to explore, she thought she might die
from pleasure. Her head fell back, her eyelids dropped closed, and her body
quivered as the orgasm rolled over her. His name tumbled from her lips and
ended in a moan.

She attempted to move away, intent on sliding down his body
and filling herself with that part of him that she most craved. But his hands
held her firmly in place.

“Clint, please.”

“Please what? Tell me what you want.” When she failed to
respond, he added, “I need you to tell me.”

“I want you inside me. Now. Please.”

With a rough groan he lifted her, placing her on her back
beside him. Momentarily confused by the loss of contact, she reached out to
grab him, to bring him back to her. He pushed her hand away and leaned across
her to open the drawer of the nightstand, withdrawing a small foil packet.
Within seconds he had shed the remainder of his clothing and encased his
erection in the condom. Positioning himself between her thighs, he grasped her
wrists, raised her arms above her head, and pinned them to the bed.

Panic darted through her in one huge spurt. She tried to
jerk her arms free, but his grip was too firm. “No,” she gasped.

“Okay.” His hold loosened, and he ran his hands down her
arms. “I didn’t know. You used to like—”

“Not anymore.” The thought of being helpless terrified her.
She knew it was ridiculous. This was Clint, not Matt. She knew Clint wouldn’t
hurt her, but nevertheless she couldn’t shake the paralyzing fear that had filled
her when he’d pinned her hands to the bed.

“All right.” He caressed her cheek with the back of his
fingers. “I won’t do it then.”

And just like that, the tension seeped from her body and she
relaxed again. He kissed her lips, over and over again—long, deep, thorough
kisses—but made no move to enter her. Finally, she wrapped her legs around him
and pulled him toward her in silent invitation. He entered her gently. When at
last he was inside her, she felt the most overwhelming sense of
completeness—pure and utter completeness.

He entered into a slow rhythm, and with each thrust she sank
deeper into the glorious sensations of pleasure that ran through her body. Her
hips rose underneath him as she sought to take him in deeper. Each stroke sent
her higher and higher until she reached the peak.

She groaned, arching her back and digging her fingernails
into his back. He plunged into her deeply, and then his movement came to a halt
as he buried his face in her hair and groaned.

Clint rolled to his back, bringing Tricia with him so she
was curled against his body.

“You’re a god,” she murmured. “An absolute god.”

“Well, I do aim to please,” he said smugly.

She couldn’t help but smile at the pride in his voice. His
hand stroked her back gently. She closed her eyes and drifted toward sleep.

“I’ve missed you, honey,” Clint said softly.

* * * *

Clint awoke to sunlight streaming in through the window and
a warm, naked woman plastered against his body. His arm was wrapped around
Tricia’s waist possessively, her rear snuggled against his groin.

Reaching up, he cupped her breast in the palm of his hand
and stroked a thumb over her nipple. Propping his elbow on the mattress, he
rested his head in his hand and watched her nipple harden under his touch.

For years he had dreamed of touching her, of making love to
her. Remembered the feel of her beneath him, writhing and moaning. But this hadn’t
been yet another one of his dreams. This had actually happened.

There had been a few times last night when he had gotten a
little overzealous, a little too rough. With each incident he had cursed
himself. Her panic, which had been so apparent, had left him feeling despicable
and vile. But each time, she had come back. She had trusted him. At the
thought, a huge grin spread over his face.

When she stirred and pressed her rear more firmly against
him, he leaned down to nip her earlobe between his teeth. Her hand came up to
touch his cheek, and she turned her head to meet his lips with her own.

As her tongue slipped inside his mouth, he came dangerously
close to reciprocating by sliding his erection inside her. Barely managing to
stop in time, he silently scolded himself for his near irresponsible act.

“Don’t move a muscle,” he ordered.

Reaching across her body, he dug in the drawer of the
nightstand for a condom. As he tore the wrapper open, she stirred beside him.

“No.” He placed a hand on her hip. “Stay just like you are.”

Seconds later, he curled his body behind hers and buried
himself deep inside her. He reveled in the warmth and tightness he encountered.
His lips curved up into a smile at the sound of her gasp.

As he moved in and out, he slid his hand down her stomach,
between her legs, and stroked her clit. He waited until her muscles convulsed
around him before finally allowing himself his own release.

She turned her head and met his gaze with a dazed look in
her eyes. “My goodness,” she said breathlessly. “What a way to start the day.”

“Well, it’s always so much fun to begin the day with a
bang.” He winked at her, gave her a quick peck on the lips, then got up and
strolled, stark naked, to the bathroom.

A half an hour later, showered and dressed, he followed the
smell of coffee to the kitchen. Standing in the doorway, he watched Tricia
bending across the table to wipe it off. Her rear, looking utterly sensational
encased in those snug shorts, taunted him. He took the few steps necessary to reach
her and rubbed a hand possessively over her butt.

“Now, that’s a tempting picture,” he murmured.

Straightening, she slapped his hand and then turned to place
a hand on his chest and push him away. She didn’t push hard, but she pushed
just the same. He backed up a step and raised his eyebrow.

“You’re insatiable.” Her voice was flat. Not light, not
teasing, not playful, not even friendly. Hell, it was one step away from icy. Was
this the same woman he’d made love to less than an hour ago?

He shook the thought out of his head. Of course it was. He
was being ridiculous. People didn’t move from hot to cold that quickly. That
chilly tone had been nothing more than a figment of his imagination. It must
have been.

As Tricia set napkins and silverware on the table, Clint
filled two mugs with coffee. When he took a seat, she placed a plate in front
of him that was filled to overflowing with pancakes and some type of omelet.

“Looks good.” He grabbed the bottle of syrup and drenched
the pancakes in it. Using his fork, he cut through the omelet and lifted a bite
to his mouth. When his mouth closed around the combination of eggs, ham, and
melted cheese, he couldn’t stop the groan that erupted from his throat. “This
is delicious.”

“Thank you.”

The pleased look in her eyes and the small smile that tugged
at her lips only served to reinforce his belief that all was right with the
world.

“You better be careful, honey,” he warned playfully. “A man
could get used to this. He might want it every day.”