Skin (36 page)

His tongue drilled into her, then laved her tightened clit; his teeth nibbled and his lips suckled her deep into his mouth. An orgasm erupted and she bucked against his face, her juices releasing into his mouth. He continued to ravage her and the orgasm continued to rip through her one electrifying wave at a time.

Back arched, her tits thrust into the chilled air, her nipples tight, Frankie wanted all of him.

She pulled back from his mouth, her body twitching and quivering as the vestiges of her orgasms waned.

She looked at him, his lips glistening with her all over him.

“Untie me.”

She shook her head and slid down him, indulgently filling herself with him. The contact was magic. His cock was a lightning rod to her pussy, the contact explosive. He thrust high up into her and she cried out. He pulled hard at the rope, his jaw set. His legs twined with hers and he set the pace. He showed her no mercy.

“Reese,” she gasped, “please.”

He pulled harder at the rope, and the wood splintered. His furious thrusts nearly split her in two; she tried to gauge him but his furious pace was unrelenting. His legs clamped around hers and she was his prisoner. The hard look in his eyes scared her. She was no longer in control. “Please, Reese.” Tears heated her eyes. She didn’t want his anger, she wanted his tenderness.

The wood broke all the way and Reese was free of the restraint of the wall, although his hands were still tied. In a quick movement he rolled her over onto her back, still inside of her. She screamed. His blue eyes flashed like polished sapphires. He pulled the knot loose with his teeth and in an instant he was no longer restrained. Panic rose inside her chest and she felt his cock flex inside of her. The thrill of his control of her and the fear she felt at that moment nearly triggered another orgasm.

His hand slid to her throat and he wrapped his fingers around it. “What now, Frankie?”

She had no words. She closed her eyes, the emotions so raw inside her it hurt. She felt a warm tear slide from the corner of her eye and cursed herself.

His hands loosened around her throat. What he did next surprised her. He kissed away the tear. Gently he took her face into his hands and kissed her lips. Slowly he opened her mouth with his tongue, gently probing. Her chest constricted. Never had anyone been so gentle with her, and after what she did? Another tear slipped from her closed eyes, followed by another.

“Shh, Frankie, shh, it’s all right.” He consoled her, her arms slid around his neck, and she kissed him back deeply. Her hips quaked and his pressed against hers, neither asking nor taking.

Powerful emotion swelled in her chest, infusing her cells. She wanted him now more than at any other time. She wanted his love. “Make love to me, Reese.”

He kissed her again and smoothed back her hair. His hips moved slowly at first, but as she met him thrust for thrust the momentum increased. His lips trailed from her lips to her eyes where he kissed away her tears, then down her throat. She wrapped her arms tighter around his neck, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder, never wanting him to let her go. He called out her name as he came. She followed a second later, their bodies undulating in perfect motion, their rhythm one.

For several long moments they lay silent, catching their breath, their fingers, arms, and legs entwined.

“What just happened?” Frankie softly asked.

He smoothed her hair back and looked at her tenderly. “I think that was called making love.”

She smiled and snuggled closer to him. “Reese — I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For calling you a trained monkey. For everything. I haven’t been exactly honest with you.”

She felt his body tighten. “About what?”

“Um, well, it isn’t my usual practice to have sex with my models, as you know.”

“Go on.”

“And, well, I used our attraction to get shots out of you.”

“Just business, huh?”

She smiled again. “Yes, but, well, if it hadn’t been you, I wouldn’t have. I couldn’t.” The words “I care about you” choked in her throat. She didn’t want to scare him out of bed.

“Fuhgeddaboudit.”

“Have you?”

“What?”

“Been honest with me?”

“Yes.”

“Then would you trust me enough to tell me about your sister?”

He let out a long breath. “She died fifteen years ago.”

“How?”

“She took off on her horse after I gave her some bad news. She fell and broke her neck.” Pain twisted his face and his eyes wavered from hers.

“Oh, my God, Reese, how horrible.” She sat up. “Surely you don’t blame yourself?”

He nodded. “I gave her the news.”

“But it was her choice to run off.”

“No, Frankie, I lashed out at her in my anger. She was fucking twelve years old! I should have protected her. Instead it was my hand that pushed her.”

“And your father blames you?”

“Rightfully so.”

“I don’t believe it! You were fifteen, how were you to know what would happen?”

“I knew she wasn’t stable. I wanted her to stop asking questions.”

“What news did you give her?”

“I told her the truth. Our mother didn’t love us enough to hang around.”

“She deserted you?”

“Yeah, ranch life wasn’t for her. She up and left one night while my father was in Cheyenne. The old man blamed me, said I was too much work and he regretted ever adopting me.”

Frankie gasped. He laughed. “Don’t feel sorry for me, Frankie, I’m not worth it. My biological father didn’t stay around long enough for morning sex. It was me and Mom for years. Until she met Sam. He was a good man, but he was also a man of the land. Mom always took to the cities. They met in Dallas. She was working a quarter horse convention, and he was buying a stud to start his line. He promised her a place to live and his love, she promised him she’d try. After Missy was born she changed. Missy was a colicky baby, and my mother was different. I think now she might have had a touch of depression that never left. Me and Sam took over raising Missy and Mom just kind of blended in with the woodwork. She was just never the same. She up and left one day, said she couldn’t do this life anymore.”

Frankie smoothed back his hair, her heart breaking for the family. “Missy kept crying, blaming herself. I finally had it one day and told her to grow up, it wasn’t her, it was our mother. Mother was selfish, and it was time to move on. Missy jumped on her pony and took off. Sam yelled at me to go get her. When I got to her it was too late.”

“Oh, Reese, I’m so sorry. But it isn’t your fault. Girls do stupid things all of the time. How were you to know she would react like that?”

“I don’t know. I always had a temper, my parents always told me it would get me in trouble, and it did.”

“No, no, it isn’t that way. You can’t control everything, or everyone, only yourself.”

“It’s history.”

“But you love it here.”

“I stopped loving this place the day my father hit me and told me never to come back. That I was as dead to him as Missy was.”

She gasped. “My father said the same thing to me.”

His eyes narrowed. “What happened?”

She swallowed hard. “I don’t know.” Her eyes filled with tears. “He hurt me, Reese, and God forgive me, but I struck back by defying him.”

“I can help you, Frankie.”

“No, you can’t. No one can.”

He gathered her into his arms. “Trust me.”

She turned watery eyes up to him. “I have to do this myself.”

She fell asleep in Reese’s arms, and long after the camera stopped, Reese stared at the ceiling of the stall. The lights dimmed in the lanterns, the batteries losing juice.

Had Frankie admitted she killed her father or was she innocent? If she was guilty, then there was no reason fighting her idea to go confront her brother. Maybe that was a setup to take him out too. Jase’s words echoed in his head.
“Mark my words, buddy. Goombahs will show up, coz she’ll get the word out.”

It had been two days and no sign of soldiers. Could Frankie be innocent? Stealthily, Reese slipped from the warmth of Frankie’s body and the blankets. He quickly dressed, then headed for the office, closed the door, and made a call.

“Wiseguy,” a voice answered.

Reese smiled. Jase’s version of a goombah was good.

“Did you get a statement from the secretary?”

“Nah, her lawyer is holding out, but we’re working on it.”

Reese felt a momentary sense of relief. “I think we’ve got this wrong.”

“How so?”

“No goons in these parts and I just can’t buy into your theory.”

“Ah, I see, you got some more and you want to keep getting it.”

“Look, if she killed her old man, I’ll find out. I’ve got her primed, the next time I fuck her she’ll sing.” Reese cringed at his crudity. It was necessary if he was to keep up his front with Jase. The last thing he needed was for Jase to report back to Ty that he was too close to the crack. He’d be yanked off the case so fast everyone’s heads would spin. He needed more time. If she was a killer, he’d arrest her, but if she wasn’t?

“Get fucking, man, ’cause our eyes and ears tell us war is about to break out.”

“I’ll pump her for as much as I can get, but I want your word you’ll keep quiet to Jamerson, I don’t want to get pulled.”

“You got it, man. I’ll give you twenty-four more hours, then we pull her in.”

“I need more than twenty-four hours.”

“It’s less now, get humping, man.”

“Fuck you, Jase,” he mumbled before slamming the phone down. He opened the door and came face-to-face with Frankie. She slapped him across the face so hard that for several seconds he heard little birdies.

“You’re nothing but a dirty lying cop!”

“F
rankie —”

She punched him in the chest. “I hate you!” Pain speared her hand. Her adrenaline spiked, the hurt ignored.

She punched him again. “I hate you!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, so loud her throat strained and horses whinnied nervously. She turned to run from him but he caught her arm. She spun around so fast it surprised him. “Don’t you ever touch me again! Do you understand?
Never!”

She yanked her arm from his grasp and ran back to the stall. Emotions collided like a multiple-engine train wreck in her heart. It was always there, right in front of her, she just refused to deal with it.

Humiliation, anger, frustration, and a profound sense of loss smashed together, one on top of the other, into a heap of what her life had become. Hot tears stung her eyes. She could barely see what she grabbed. She managed to navigate the small space and find her clothes. Hastily she dressed, not wanting to stand naked before him for a second longer. She grabbed the camera. She felt Reese step forward. A low, guttural sound like a wounded beast emanated from deep within her. She dared him with an icy glare to try and take it.

He stepped back. Clutching the camera to her chest, Frankie hurried past him.

When she entered the house, the kitchen door slammed shut behind her. She started, but not before she was grabbed from behind.

“Got you now,
cara.”

Reese took his time leaving the barn. Despite Frankie’s threats to leave, there was nowhere for her to go. He had the keys to the truck and Midas wouldn’t be back until later. If she called for help, by the time anyone arrived he would have her packed and gone.

His shoulders sagged in resignation.

Frankie was right. They needed to go back. Running got them nowhere. It was time to take the tiger by the tail.

He stood in the empty stall, his gaze resting on the rumpled blanket of the makeshift bed. If these walls could talk. A multitude of emotions racked him. Guilt, anger, sadness. A profound sense of loss. And just as powerful, regret. Regret for what might have been. What could have been. What wasn’t.

The last straw was his conversation with Jase. She didn’t need to hear that. It wasn’t meant the way it sounded. As much as the evidence pointed to Frankie, he didn’t want her sad, or angry. He knew what his side of the conversation sounded like, and if he was honest with himself, it was true. He could use sex to get info out of her. And he had. He cringed. He hadn’t been honest with her.

He steeled his resolve. She hadn’t been honest either, in fact she downright lied.
Did two wrongs make a right?
he asked himself. It sure as hell did when it put a murderer behind bars.

He let out a long breath. Why, then, did he feel hollow inside? He looked at the empty tripod. Thinking about what they captured on film, his body warmed. Not at the interval when he had Frankie tied up and at his mercy. No, what turned him on was the memory of their tender lovemaking, when she hung in his arms and cried. He’d felt the emotion pour from her. All his anger, his wanting to hurt her back for hurting him had evaporated. When he’d reciprocated, it felt more right than anything in his life.

He needed to talk to her, to make her understand he had a job to do. Yeah, right before you arrest her.

Shit!

He walked out of the barn. Exhaustion consumed him. He wanted to throw a bedroll on the back of his saddle and ride Zorro out to the linemen’s cabin on the north side of the ranch, stare at a campfire for a week, come back to reality, and be all right with the world. But it wasn’t his style. He’d never run from anything in his life. Except the memories here.

He smiled sadly. Frankie was right. He’d held his demons in too long. He needed to let go. He sighed and entered the house. Curiously, the door was ajar. Maybe not so curious. He bet Frankie slammed it so hard it bounced open from the velocity. He rubbed his chest. The woman had a punch.

He glanced out the open door. The sun was just rising over the eastern foothills. He knew what he had to do before he left this place. He had nothing to lose, and maybe something to gain by seeing the man who raised him.

Dragging his feet to the landing of the long staircase, he looked up, the door to Frankie’s room only half visible. He wanted to go up, to say he was sorry, but he resisted. It was too late for that now. The hollowness inside him ate at his gut like a vulture on carrion. He turned back from the staircase and moved into the large family room. He stood in the empty silence, feeling more alone than he did fifteen years ago.