Seeing Red (34 page)

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Authors: Susan Crandall

BOOK: Seeing Red
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“Bullshit!” she said again. “I was such a stupid kid. I thought you actually cared!”

His temper flashed, hot and bright. He grabbed her by the shoulders, digging in his fingertips to get her attention. “I do care about you. I always knew what was going on in your life. You were safe. You were happy. The last thing you needed was me dragging back with a boatload of bad memories.”

She leaned forward. His grip now held her back. “How can you be so incredibly, totally, utterly fucking stupid!” she shouted. “I wasn’t
happy
.” Her mouth twisted into a disgusted frown. “I couldn’t take that kind of loss again. So I lived like a turtle in a freaking shell. And it didn’t matter to you at all!”

She jerked her shoulders free and started to walk away.

He grabbed her hand. The instant he did it, he knew he’d made a mistake.

She spun and did a wrist lock turn on him. He let her twist his left hand, forcing his fingers inward toward his elbow.

Her eyes were hard, glassy with anger. Her mouth twisted with pain.

“Ellis! That hurts like a mother—”

She gritted her teeth and pressed harder.

He bent his knees, lowered his shoulder under her midsection. He sprung into a lift more quickly than she could prepare for. He flipped her over, dropping her onto the bed.

Her eyes blazed like a wildcat’s. Now he’d really pissed her off.

Straightening, he took a step backward, holding his hands palms out to ward her off. “Ellis. Don’t.”

He could tell by the look in her eye that she was coming after him again. The girl knew how to fight. He needed to incapacitate her quickly, or she was going to get hurt.

Instead of backing away, he threw himself at her, knocking her backward onto the bed. Keeping his weight fully on her, he grabbed her wrists and pinned them over her head.

She bucked and writhed, but he was broader and managed to get his knees by her hips and keep her beneath him.

“Enough,” he said through clenched teeth. “That’s enough.”

She wiggled and tried to twist her wrists free. Her breathing was ragged and fast.

“Stop and I’ll let you go.” His nose was inches from hers. “Come on. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Ha!” She nearly spat the word in his face. “Too damn late.”

He knew she wasn’t referring to physical wounds.

He lowered his face closer to hers and brought her hands closer to the top of her head. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I am. I may be an inconsiderate bastard. I may have screwed up. But there isn’t another person in this world who means more to me.”

He could feel the tension draining from her body. A tear slipped from the corner of her eye. He made himself watch it until it disappeared into her hair. He’d done this. He’d caused this pain.

“No one.” He emphasized the two words with increased pressure on her wrists. His lips were almost touching hers when he whispered, “Believe it.”

He felt the rapid rise and fall of her chest beneath his—and his own body throbbing with more than exertion.

He should let her go.

He should.

He lessened his grip on her wrists but didn’t move off of her.

Stop being a selfish bastard.

Then she lifted her lips to his. Her kiss was hungry and wild. And he knew it was driven by anger. Still, he allowed himself a moment. Just a moment.

Dear God in heaven, didn’t she know? Didn’t she know how much he cared for her?

He let go of her wrists and rolled them over, wrapping his arms tightly around her.

She straddled him, her hands on the bed on either side of his head, her mouth devouring as savagely as his.

When she started to rock her hips against him, he nearly lost all control.

Stop. This.

He reached up and took the sides of her face in his hands. It took more physical strength to lift her mouth from his than bench-pressing one-seventy.

Her ponytail had come loose, and her hair tumbled over the backs of his hands, teasing like feathers. Her breasts strained against the silky fabric of her top with each intense breath. Her mouth was parted invitingly. And her eyes, dear Lord, those eyes. The pain had been usurped by passion, the anger vanquished by lust. Every aspect of her had turned torturously erotic.

She ran her hands over his chest. “Your shirt’s still damp.” Her teeth captured her lower lip at the end of the last word. And her hands started to pull the fabric upward.

He pulled her against him, trapping her hands between them. He allowed himself one long, hot kiss. Then he slid her to his side and held her there, using his hand to keep her head on his shoulder.

“I’d die before I hurt you again,” he said softly.

She didn’t respond.

As he caressed her hair, he felt a lump on the side of her head. “What the hell?”

“I hit my head when I fell in the tub.” She sounded as breathless as he still felt.

He rolled up onto his elbow, letting her head slide onto the mattress. “Let me see. Is it bleeding?”

“It’s fine.”

He gently parted the hair on the side of her head and inspected the injury. Her scalp was tight and purple, but the skin wasn’t broken.

“Looks painful.” He wanted to wring Alexander’s neck with his bare hands. He had to put an end to this before Ellis was truly hurt.

“It’s not too bad.”

He looked at her for a long moment, regrouping his thoughts.

“You don’t know how much it pains me to say this,” he said, “but there are things that need our attention.” He gently stroked her temple.

She sighed in a way that clawed at his heart.

He took her chin and turned her face toward his. “I want you to know that I meant what I said.”

A small smile curved her lips. “Which part, that you’re an inconsiderate, sorry bastard, or that you care?”

“I care so much, I ache inside.”

The intensity in Nate’s steelgray gaze closed like a trap around her heart. Her blood moved sluggishly through her veins, and she realized she’d never been so affected by just looking into someone’s eyes.

Suddenly it began, a tiny orange glimmer beneath her breastbone. A tickling warmth, a flutter of emotion.

As she looked into Nate’s eyes, his unwavering gaze fanned that tiny glowing ember. It grew brighter, more intense.

He slid his hand behind her neck and stroked his thumb across her throat. That slight, simple, yet oh so sensual touch was like stirring the dying coals of a night’s campfire. It sent a shower of bright orange sparks throughout her body, each one hot and searing where it landed.

Then a wondrous thing happened. A tiny yellow flame licked into the darkness of Ellis’s soul.

Maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t so damaged inside that she couldn’t love as deeply as others. Maybe she just hadn’t been with the right person.

There was no way she was giving up without finding out. There may never be another opportunity. Nate was leaving, probably sooner than later. She had to know. If he was the only one who could bring her soul to life and she’d have to live without him, so be it. At least she’d know it hadn’t withered and turned to dust.

She leaned over and kissed him, honing in on the utterly new sensations that rocked her body and spirit.

All of those tiny embers blazed fierce and bright.

He kissed her back, yet she could sense his restraint.

As she teased her tongue along his lips, she slid her hand across his belly, then lower, caressing him until he moaned. “Ellis,” he said softly against her mouth.

“Don’t talk.” She nipped his lower lip and worked the buckle on his belt. “Just love me.”

She held her breath, waiting for his response. If he refused, she’d scream.

He held her slightly away from him. “It’s not right,” he said, regret in his voice. “I’ll leave you again. I
have
to leave.”

“It’s not the leaving that frightens me; it’s the fear I’ll never get to experience this . . . what’s between us. Grant me this moment, please.”

“God, Ellis . . . ” His eyes looked like molten metal, hot, yet soft, fluid with desire.

She didn’t hesitate; she kissed him, pouring out everything that welled in her heart.

With a feral growl, his reluctance vanished. His kiss answered hers in kind, and his hand slid under her top.

His mouth danced across her collarbone, then down, his hot moist breath warming her breast through the thin fabric. When his lips grazed the bare skin of her stomach, that scream almost erupted, but for an entirely different reason.

His tongue circled her navel. He whispered against her belly, “God, I want you.”

She pulled off her top. “Then take me.”

Nate pushed her bra strap off her shoulder, exposing her breast to his mouth, and she thought she’d fly into pieces.

He disposed of her bra. Her jeans and panties quickly followed.

Pushing him onto his back, Ellis managed to get him out of his shirt. She explored his chest with skimming fingers and tasting lips. His stomach muscles quivered beneath her touch.

His hands roamed her back, her breasts, the curve of her waist; caressing fingers becoming more urgent, more insistent in their exploration. He pulled her down on top of him, drawing her lips to his.

Ellis’s emotions exploded, an outpouring of adolescent fantasy, of long-suppressed need, of love at last come to light. That tiny yellow flame in her soul burst into a blue-white fire that threatened to consume her completely.

For the first time in her life, she felt wild, untamed. Nothing mattered except what was happening at this instant, with this man.

With recklessly desperate hands, she got him out of his remaining clothes. She had to feel every inch of his skin, every curve of his body, discover every secret place that made him shiver.

Suddenly, he wrapped his arms around her and turned them so she was beneath him.

Ellis opened her body and her spirit to him . . . and lost herself in the miracle of what he offered in return.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-FIVE

 

E
llis knew the instant guilt and second thoughts began to nibble at Nate’s conscience. She felt it in the increased tension in his body. She heard it in his breathing. She sensed the dampening of his unbridled emotions. He was pulling away.

“Don’t,” she said from where she lay with her head on his shoulder.

“Don’t what?”

Propping her chin on his chest, she said, “Don’t get all worried that I’m going to feel hurt and abandoned. Don’t try to make me feel like we shouldn’t have done this.”

He remained quiet, rubbing her back, sending a new cascade of chills down her spine. Even if she suffered the loss every day of her life from now on, what she’d just experienced would be worth every minute of emotional torment.

“It was my choice,” she said. “And I
was
very insistent. You’re only a man, after all.” She kissed his chest. “No match for my womanly wiles.” She emphasized her comment by tracing his nipple with her finger.

The rumble of laughter started in his chest; she felt it before she heard it.

With his laughter came Ellis’s relief. She didn’t want him to regret their lovemaking nor did she want to discuss it right now. Not until she’d had some time to absorb the life-altering consequences of what she’d just discovered.

She’d spent the past fifteen years treading a tightwire of restraint, of avoiding risk, of repression. There was something in her total loss of control with Nate that had been cathartic and that raised so many more questions about her inner self and her choices.

His chuckles calmed, and he followed her lighthearted lead. “I’ve always been a slave to your will—you’ve just never known it until now. I’m afraid I’ve handed you a very dangerous weapon.”

Sitting up, she gathered the rumpled comforter around her. “Lucky for you, I’m very careful with weapons.” She started to slide off the bed, but he grabbed her arm and halted her.

“Ellis.” He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed it. “We do need to talk about this—about us.”

“Let’s not make it complicated. I understand there is no us. Nothing else to talk about.” She got off the bed and stood there, her heart wishing things were different.

In Nate’s gray eyes, she saw the same useless longing. She had to get this vessel turned before it beached itself.

Forcing herself into reality mode, she said, “We’ve got work to do. I have to call the police about the doll, which means you need to get out of here. I’ll have to change the alarm code—”

“You’re not staying here.”

“I’ve been all through this with Dad. I’m not leaving town.”

“No. You’re coming with me.” Before she could argue, he went on. “I can’t stay here with you—not with the police looking for me. And I’m not leaving you alone. Pack a bag.”

“If Alexander’s so clever, he’ll just follow us,” she said.

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