Unraveled (Love in Salem, book 2) (2 page)

It was scary actually just how fast her body responded to him.  He hadn’t done anything more than whisper in her ear, and her panties were so wet she was surprised she wasn’t dripping down her thighs.

Her heart was pounding so hard she thought it may explode from her chest.  A shiver raced down her spine when his breath caressed her neck.  All she could think about was how it would feel if his mouth suckled that same spot.

Alarmed by this zinging attraction between them, she tried to convince herself that it was fear from being pinned against the wall by a large drunken man and not an all-consuming surge of lust.

Knowing she should be listening to him instead of fantasizing about licking him like a lollipop, she focused in time to hear him say “…without sounding like a total letch.”

Atayla cleared the desire from her voice “Well, you could start by removing your hands from my breasts and taking about ten steps backwards.” 

He obeyed as best as he could in his current condition.  Awkward in his movements, Atayla couldn’t help but reach out and help steady him against the opposite wall.

Letting go of his arm was difficult, his warm skin and rippling muscles felt good beneath her palms.  She wanted to stroke him, explore his whole body, and see if he were muscular all over.

Breathing deeply, Atayla stepped back and took her first good look at the man who accosted her.  He was quite a vision.  Over six feet tall, he towered over her as he stared at her through deep blue eyes.

Oh boy, he was sexy.  From what should determine, he was indeed extremely muscular all over.  Not body builder muscular, but there were certainly some muscles bulging through his clothing. Atayla looked down his body and blushed.  Yes, there was bulging in one other place too.

Tearing her eyes away from what she was sure was a pretty impressive erection, she took note of his tattoos.  Very colorful tattoos were on his forearms and seemed to travel up beneath the sleeves of his t-shirt.  His t-shirt was tight against his broad, imposing shoulders. 

An uncomfortable chill shot down her spine.  This guy was way bigger than Randall.  No doubt he could do a lot more damage.

Though she knew it was unfair to judge someone by appearances, his short cropped black hair, closely trimmed mustache and goatee, tattoos, and all around size screamed danger.  She had enough experience with aggressive men to know that she didn’t want any part of another one.

“I don’t like the look in your eyes.”  He whispered.

“What look is that?”

“You’re afraid of me.”  Atayla could hear the sadness in his voice.

Taking a shaky breath, she decided honesty was, in fact, always the best policy.  “Yes, I am.  Kind of, anyway”

Aidan cocked his head at the cute little woman and wondered how he could dissuade her fears. 

“I would never hurt you.” 

He knew it was weak as defenses go, but it was the best he could think up under the circumstances.

Atayla nodded her head in agreement.  “Yes, well, I don’t actually know you either.  You could say that to all the girls you chop up into little itty bitty pieces.”

Barking a surprised laugh, Aidan quickly apologized.  “I’m sorry.  I know you didn’t mean that to be funny.  It’s just that I don’t think I have ever intimidated a woman before and certainly not to the extent that one would think I’m a serial killer.  If you knew me, you would see the humor in it as well.”

Running trembling fingers through her hair, Atayla stood there and warred between uneasiness and arousal.  There was something about him that called to her.  Part of her wanted to push him up against the wall as he done her, only with lips meeting lips and hands busily seeking warm naked flesh.

Another part of her, the place in her mind that kept replaying images of a slightly smaller man grabbing her by the hair and yanking her over the back of the couch, wanted to run as far away as possible. 

Atayla licked her lips.  “Well, I’ll just be on my way now.”

“Wait!”  Aidan immediately jumped to attention.  “I don’t even know your name.  I’m Aidan.  Let me give you my number.  You could call me sometime.  We could get to know each other.”

“No!”  Startled by his sudden movement, Atayla threw her hands out in front of her and took a couple steps backward.

At the puzzled look he gave her, Atayla explained.

“Look, I think it would be better if we just walked away from each other.  I don’t want your number because I know I won’t call you.  I’m sure you are a nice guy and all, but I’m just not interested.  I’m sorry.”

Dejected, Aidan watched her scurry towards the ladies room before turning and walking towards his table and his ride home.

Chapter One

“You want me to do what?”  Atayla looked over at her friend as though she had just sprouted two heads.   Surely she had misunderstood what she said.

Hot coffee spilled over the lip of the cup she was filling.  She shrieked when it splashed onto the counter near her hand.  Grabbing the dish cloth that was hanging over the sink, she quickly mopped up the mess and threw the cloth back.

“Get a tattoo!”  Abby exclaimed as she eagerly accepted the strong brew.  “Come on, you love all mine, so why not have one for yourself?  You need to spice up your life a little bit.  Be daring!  I would tell you that you need to get laid, but I figured it would be easier to talk you into getting a tattoo.”  Though her voice was chiding, she looked at Atayla with understanding.

Turning her back to her friend, Atayla forced her tears away.  If anyone understood her turbulent emotions, it was Abby.  That life was far behind her though. There was no more room for tears in her present or her future.

Abby had been there for her after she left Randall.  Provided her with a place to stay and the means to start over in life.  If it weren’t for her, Atayla probably would have went back and allowed the cycle to repeat itself.

Eighteen and alone in the world, Atayla had no direction until she met Randall.  He had seemed like a dream come true to her.  Sweeping her off her feet, he brought her into the only home she had ever known. 

In the beginning, Atayla had truly felt loved for the first time in her life.  So used to being an unwanted burden to her mother and stepfather, she never had anyone take care of her before.  Randall had been extremely attentive and always concerned for her comfort.

It wasn’t until a year later when she had settled in and became dependent upon him that he showed his true colors.  Long gone was the man who doted on her, and in his place was a controlling and manipulative bastard. 

For four years, she endured his verbal and eventual physical abuse.  She took a substantial blow to her self-esteem and gained a healthy dose of fear.  It definitely wasn’t an experience she wanted to repeat.

By the time she was twenty-three, she realized struggling on her own was better than suffering through Randall’s bullshit.  Confessing her plans to leave the bastard, Abby had offered up her spare room.  Moving from California to Nevada turned out to be the best decision she ever made.  Being able to start over with a clean slate, Atayla had created a whole new life for herself. 

Shortly after arriving in Salem she snagged a job as an assistant/secretary for William Bradshaw, a local hot shot attorney.  Luckily, she had some experience from working summers at her stepfather’s law office and had received an excellent reference from his assistant.

“I’m not sure a tattoo is the way to go about spicing up my life.  Besides, wherever I had it placed it would have to be easily hidden.  What’s the point of getting a tattoo if you can’t show it off?” 

Abby sighed.  “I swear you have no imagination.  There are places to put a tattoo where it is easily hidden when needed and showcased all other times.  Well, at least they would be if you didn’t dress like a virgin maiden.”

“There is nothing wrong with the way I dress!”  Offended, Atayla slapped her hand on her hip and glared at her friend.

“Not at the moment anyway.”  She eyed the dark blue stretch jeans and white peasant top Atayla was wearing.  “You usually wear clothes so baggy people have to wonder if you even have a body underneath it all.”

Atayla shrugged.  “If they actually saw what was underneath they would run screaming anyway.”

“Knock it off.  That’s him talking, not you.  You’re sexy and smart, and you know it.  Now, if you had a tattoo it would double your sexiness and throw in a little mystery too.”

Atayla laughed.  Abby was like a bulldog when she wanted something.  And speaking of sexy and tattooed… That guy back at the club three months ago, now he would have been a way to spice up her life even if only for a night.  Hell, even his name was sexy.

Out of all the things she held herself back from, he was the one she regretted the most.  Aidan had starred in all of her fantasies since that night, though she had no doubt he probably forgot all about her the second she scurried away like the scared little mouse she was.

She wouldn’t even tell him her name when he asked for cripes sake!  What would it have hurt to at least tell him her first name?  Maybe then he would have at least had a name to remember and not her jiggling ass as she ran to hide. 

She had allowed herself to be intimidated by his size and bad boy appearance when in reality he was probably a big teddy bear.  It was a knee-jerk fear though, one that had four years to cement. 

Atayla had hoped by now she would be over her fears and be able to move on.  She hated that the influences of her past still controlled her, hated that she willing missed out on life and happiness.  Pathetic really, her life has been full of disappointment and regrets.

“I have an appointment with Eddie in thirty minutes to fill in the tat he started working on last week.  Come with me, take a look around, and see if anything catches your eye.”

Yes, her life was full of disappointment and regrets.  She was so tired of missing out on the finer things life had to offer.  She was tired of being scared.  Tired of feeling inadequate.  Most of all, she was tired of being alone. 

The only person who could change things was her.  She alone had the power to make the necessary improvements to her life.  She could do this.  She would do this.

“Fine, I’ll go with you and check things out.  But I’m not making any promises about a tattoo so don’t get your panties in a twist.  I’m just going to go see what they have and see what my options are.” 

Sharing her revelation with her friend wasn’t something she wanted to do at the moment.  It wasn’t that Abby wouldn’t be supportive.  Lord knows that she has been trying to crack her shell for a few years now.  No, Abby would be too supportive, and she wasn’t quite ready to face all her fears at once.

Abby was a full steam ahead kind of gal.  If something was standing in her way, she pulverized it into the ground.  It would be a complete waste of her time to walk around.  Atayla wished she had even a small amount of that gumption.

Maybe Abby was right about the tattoo though, just not in the context she believed.  If she got a tattoo, it would be to memorialize the woman she was about to become and leave the past behind.  Her personal stamp of approval per se.  Now all she needed was to figure out where to start.

“Why did you get your first tattoo?”

Abby chuckled mischievously.  “I got it to piss dear ol’ dad off.  It was right after we graduated from Harrison-Graham, and before I went off to the University.  He went on one of his tirades about the family business and reputation and responsibilities of old money, and how I owed it to him after all he had given me not to be an embarrassment to him, blah, blah, blah.”

The grin on her face was pure defiance, but the look in her eyes was that of a lost child.  Abby had issues of her own, not that she was ever going to admit it.

“Anyway, it was like two weeks before one of those perfunctory Balls hosted in the political world so all the big wigs can rub elbows and stroke egos and basically lie to one another.”

“I knew the dress that I would be squeezed into would be elegant and yet revealing, after all, they had to trot me around like a prized thoroughbred in an attempt to marry me off to some pencil dick that may be of some use to advance my father’s career.”  Abby shook her head, disapproving.

“One week before the Ball I got the tattoo across my shoulders.  Father was furious and threatened to disown me.  He eventually calmed down, and I was never forced to endure one of his boring parties again, but he kicked me out of the house and requested that I never reveal my relationship to the all too precious Claiborne family. After all, we wouldn’t want to spoil such a sterling reputation by having a delinquent in the family.”

The sadness Atayla could see broke her heart.  She as well knew what parental abandonment was like.  To feel as though there was nobody to catch you if you fell.  Sure she had friends, Abby mainly, that she could rely on in a pinch, but not someone who shared with her that unique connection.  Not family.