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Authors: Sheila Seabrook

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BOOK: Terms of Surrender
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Somewhere in the quiet neighborhood, a dog barked, a car door slammed, a motor purred to life and droned off into the distance.

Inside the house, the only sound was the steady tick-tock of the living room clock, and the sound of his ragged breathing in her ear.

“Please, Gage,” she whispered. “I promise I’ll stay on my side of the bed. You won’t even know I’m there.”

He let out a heavy sigh and the stiffness of his body gave way to strength and compassion. “Geez, Harley, you don’t have to beg.”

Okay, maybe she’d gone too far. Maybe it was time to backtrack.

Embarrassed, she untangled her arms from around his neck and pushed away.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” She tucked her arms around her waist, no longer able to look him in the eye, heat blooming in her cheeks. “It’s enough that you offered me your spare room. I don’t mean to be more of an imposition.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, all cute and flustered and totally out of his depth. “Jesus, Harley, you caught me off guard.”

Shuffling her feet, she shifted away. “Never mind. I’m being silly. I thought if I was with you I wouldn’t have—”

Nightmares
.

Harley turned for the hallway and walked away.

This nightmare was the worst of all.

CHAPTER FIVE

Gage knew exactly what Harley needed.

Solace and care.

But if he climbed into bed with her, if he gathered her into his arms and held her close, she’d know that solace and care were the last things on his mind.

She definitely didn’t need him going all caveman on her.

And yet, against all logic and thought, he followed her down the hallway, annoyed with himself, her, and the asshole gunman who’d put them into this spot in the first place.

“Fine, okay, you can sleep in my bed.” As she turned to face him, hope and relief shining in her eyes, he ignored the rush of pleasure that pumped through his body. “I’m warning you, though, I’m not a saint. If you wake up in the middle of the night and I have my hands on your—” He made a motion of cupping her breasts with his hands, his face heating, and other more interested parts of his body hardening. “You get the point.”

“Duly warned,” she replied, and as he turned toward the bathroom, she delayed his escape. “Do you mind if I exchange this shirt for something more comfortable?”

He saw her scratch under the stiff collar and noticed the redness of her skin. Guilt hit him square in the solar plexus. He’d wanted a shirt that would hide her body. Instead, he’d caused her more pain. “Help yourself.”

As he turned to go, she grabbed his wrist and stopped him. “Thank you.”

Self-conscious now, he shrugged. “Stop saying thank you all the time. It’s unnecessary. I’d do this for anyone.”

He escaped into the bathroom and disrobed, the semi-erection he’d had ever since she kissed him now a throbbing boner. As he caught sight of her sexy white panties hanging off the bathtub faucet, he realized that beneath his shirt, she’d been naked.

Gage turned on the cold water and stepped into the shower.

In the early morning hours, the air was cool, and he shivered under the cold spray.

He forced himself to think of other things, like how the temperature outside would spike under the mid-afternoon sun, how the heat waves would shimmer off the black pavement, how the busy streets would be filled with aggravated motorists. By nightfall, tempers would be on the verge of a meltdown and the never-ending cycle of abuse would be revived.

But not in his house.

Not in his life.

He’d keep his cool while everyone around him went insane.

If only he could explain to Harley that a little bit of hurt to the heart now was far better than to risk a lifetime of pain and abuse. No matter what else he did, no matter how he felt, he’d protect her from men like Henry.

From men like himself.

He stayed in the shower until his erection was semi-under control.

By the time he came out, his brain had almost shut down and his body wanted only two things. Sexual relief and sleep.

A bead of sweat worked its way down the center of his back, while his exhausted brain grappled with thoughts of Harley in his bed, wearing nothing more than one of his shirts and pink polish on her toenails. The last thing he wanted to do was take advantage of her during a weak moment. Hero to zero in the blink of an eye.

He let his eyes adjust to the early morning semi-darkness of the house and when he crossed the hallway to the bedroom doorway, he froze.

Curled up on his bed, half in, half out of one of his t-shirts, she laid on top of the covers. The shirt he’d loaned her had been discarded on the floor, and she’d managed to get one arm into the t-shirt before she’d toppled over from sheer exhaustion.

The hem of the cotton t-shirt rested on the top of one shoulder. Partially hidden by her arm, the curve of one breast peeked out at him.

And the danger zone around him expanded.

He let his gaze sweep down her half-naked body, past a bruise on her narrow rib cage, over the contoured angles of her belly, past the curve of her hipbone where the sexy white panties should have been, past the scrapes and bruises on the length of naked legs he shouldn’t admire.

Gage gulped a deep breath of air and felt as though he’d been gut-punched.

He stared at the round softness of her body, every part of his body tensing, including the one that shouldn’t be noticing that she lay vulnerable and nearly naked before him. Groaning, he clenched his hands into fists and stepped toward the bed.

Okay, so she’d gone through a traumatic experience last night. He’d gone through the same traumatic experience. He was pretty sure she wouldn’t want him anywhere near her. And he couldn’t take advantage of her to soothe his own weakness.

He moved closer to the bed, rested one knee on the edge, and before he even touched her, she jackknifed to a sitting position, struggled against the constriction of the t-shirt, her frightened cry slicing through his heart. He kept his voice calm and soft. “It’s me, sweetheart. Wake up.”

As she focused on him, the panic in her gaze cleared, replaced by utter confusion. “Gage? Where am I? What are you doing here?”

He took in the cut near her temple, the growing bruise on her chin, the vulnerability that had left her in his care.
Do not take advantage of the victim.
“You’re spending the night at my house. You wanted to sleep in my bed.”

Careful not to startle her, he tugged the t-shirt down and over her naked breasts, until it covered her midriff and the sweet gem hidden at the junction of her thighs. By the time he was done, he was breathing as though he’d just returned from a morning run.

“I remember.” She flopped back on the bed and covered her eyes with her hand, the t-shift riding up to bare her flat stomach and the tempting mound below. “I’m sorry I’m such a mess, such an intrusion.”

He tugged the t-shirt down to her thighs, cleared the gruffness from his voice, and kept his focus above the neckline and off his ultimate fantasy—Harley in his bed, naked and willing. “Let’s get some sleep. It’ll be morning in a couple of hours.”

Gage headed around to the other side of the bed and climbed in, aware of Harley sliding under the sheets next to him. Even though the heat of her body beckoned him closer, he diligently kept to his edge of the bed.

In the semi-darkness of the room, her soft voice drifted over to him. “Goodnight, Gage.”

He grunted his reply, doubting he’d be able to sleep with her so close.

And yet, what seemed like minutes later, he woke to the warmth of the sun on his face. He pulled himself from the dark depths of his dreams to the temptation of the woman curled into him, the scent of his soap still sweet on her skin.

Her small breast fit perfectly into the palm of his hand. Unable to resist, he smoothed his other hand down her delicate rib cage, narrow waist, and over the gentle flare of her naked hip. She stirred, her sweetly curved bottom rubbing against him, and every male cell in his body stood to attention.

Harley.
The name whispered through his thoughts.

What had they done?

What had
he
done?

It all flashed back. The domestic crisis. A frightened Harley in his bed, begging him to let her stay the night.

A creak of the hallway floorboards brought his sleep fogged mind to full alert and Gage pried open one eye, and stifled a groan as he pried open the other one.

His mom, Frances Toryn, stood in the open doorway.

Her blue-on-blue eyes swept the room and widened with surprise as she took in the extra body on his bed. Her hand fluttered to her throat and her mouth crooked up into a weak smile. “Excuse me. I didn’t realize you had an overnight guest.”

A yawn came from the beneath the blankets. Harley rolled up on one elbow, scraped the hair back from her face, and froze.

In a heartbeat, Gage evaluated his options.

He could shove her back under the covers, maybe offer a suggestion or two about what she could do while she was down there.

Or he could pull the blankets over their heads, and hope that his mom took the hint and hightailed it back home.

Frances gasped and stepped further into the room. “Hannah?”

Fuck, here we go again
.

Harley bolted upright, pulling up the sheet to cover her shoulders as though she were naked beneath the blankets. “Oh no, I’m—Harley.”

She glanced at Gage.

With a sigh, he pushed up to sit beside her, crooking one knee to hide his morning hard-on. “This is Hannah’s twin, Mom. You met her at Mike’s wedding and when his girls got christened. Remember?”

“Oh, my…oh, of course, you’re Harley. Hannah is—” She touched her fingers to her mouth and gave a sorrowful laugh. “How silly of me. We miss your sister so much and you look exactly the same.”

“I’m sorry.” The embarrassment disappeared, replaced by a moment of sadness, until the morning flush on Harley’s cheeks deepened into full-fledged embarrassment. She glanced at Gage and as horror widened her eyes, shifted away from him. She waved one hand between them. “This isn’t what it seems, Mrs. Toryn.”

His mom took another step into the room, her smile widening. “Please, call me Frances.”

Gage stifled a groan. “I’ll explain later, Mom. For now, could we—”

As though he hadn’t spoken, Frances sat down on the edge of the bed near Harley’s feet and reached out to pat his raised knee. Her gaze never left his bed partner’s face. “I’m not here to judge, my dear. In fact, I’m extraordinarily pleased to find you here. His father and I were beginning to worry that for some odd reason, women might not like our son.”

Gage felt his cheeks heat and firmed his jaw. “Some privacy, Mom?”

The older woman’s cheeks turned rosy and she quickly jumped to her feet. “Of course. I didn’t mean to interrupt—” She waved her hand between them and a nervous laugh escaped. “—whatever you were doing.”

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “We were sleeping, Mom. Harley is an old friend.”

That used to make my eyes cross with lust.

Still does
.

“Well, I popped in to let you know that your dad and I are here to water your plants.”

“Mom, you know that’s not necessary—”

“Tell that to your dad. He shouldn’t even be out in this heat, but he insists the flowerpots need to be moved. And, well, you know I wouldn’t bother you, except your dad isn’t well enough to do this work alone.” Her gaze slid to Harley once more. “It was nice to meet you again, dear. I hope we’ll see more of you.”

With another Cheshire cat smile, his mom retraced her steps down the hallway and out the back door into the yard.

Gage remained where he was, unsure what to say or do except, “Sorry. They have a key to the place.”

Harley threw back the covers and shoved him flat on his back, using her body like an ineffective paperweight to hold him down. “Great, now your mom thinks I’m easy.”

“No, she doesn’t.” He breathed out a frustrated breath. “Besides, if you’d been sleeping in the spare bed instead of here with me, you could have snuck out of the house without her even noticing you.”

Gage reached for her with the intention of pushing her off.

She grabbed his wrists and shoved his arms back onto the pillow. “Stay put. I’m not done with you yet.”

If this was her idea of punishment, she wouldn’t get a single complaint from him.

“What’s wrong with your dad?”

Gage remained passive beneath her, willing his body to behave, knowing full well it was a lost battle. A morning hard-on was difficult enough to get rid of, but this Harley-induced lust would be impossible. “Angina.”

She shifted her weight and frowned, releasing one of his wrists to reach down between them. “Did you bring your gun to bed?”

Gage stopped breathing.

Her eyes became saucers against the paleness of her face, but instead of pulling back as he expected, she let her hand linger at his crotch, and offered him a naughty smile. “Maybe you and I should become friends with benefits.”

He choked back the groan of desire slipping up his throat. “Fuck, Harley.”

She jerked her hand away from his crotch, let go of his wrist, and pushed off of him. “Yeah, exactly what I suggested.”

Gage sat up on the edge of the bed and, dragging the blanket around his hips to cover his erection, pushed to his feet. As the blood rushed from his brain to his lower extremities, he experienced a moment of dizziness. Slowly, he faced her.

She was kneeling on the bed, bunching the t-shirt in her hands, causing the hem to inch up her thighs, tantalizing him with the first thought he’d had upon waking.

Harley Jane Davis had the softest skin.

“I’m not asking for a ring, Gage. Just some sexual relief once in a while. It’s not like there’s an abundance of guys available in town and sometimes I want—ack, never mind.” She huffed out her exasperation, turned her back on him, and climbed off the bed, the t-shirt riding up to reveal the smooth curve of her buttocks. “If this is your morning-after strategy, it sucks.”

“Makes you want to leave, doesn’t it?”

BOOK: Terms of Surrender
8.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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