Dear Sir, I'm Yours (18 page)

Rae had never been so happy to sit down at a greasy spoon for a hamburger and fries.

Sitting tight against Conn’s side with her face on his shoulder, she thought she might eventually get the stench of Miss Belle’s deadly meatloaf out of her nose. Someday. In the meantime, she didn’t care if the old lady approved of such public affection or not.

He leaned forward just enough for her to wedge in behind his shoulder. His left arm ran down the front of her body. What Miss Belle didn’t know was that his hand cupped her beneath the dress and she’d wrapped her thighs tight around his forearm to keep it there.

Good thing he could eat one handed.

“Who’s that man at the counter?” Miss Belle asked, daintily dabbing at her lips. She’d already finished her bacon cheeseburger and was eyeing Rae’s Susie Q’s. The old lady ate like a horse.

Conn glanced at the man sitting on the old-fashioned round barstool and gave him a hard glare that sent cold chills down Rae’s spine. Every man in the place—including Conn—was dressed in jeans except for him. He wore a suit and sat like the king of the world surveying his domain. Mid thirties, she thought, rather attractive in a slick used-car-salesman sort of way.

Not her type.

Especially when the man sitting beside her took her breath away.

“Jared Kent, vice president of the bank.” Conn gave a little squeeze, drawing a soft moan out of her. As if he needed to remind her where her eyes should be. Irritated, she sat up straighter, ready to push him away, but he winked at her over his shoulder. She bit him in the back, lightly at first in a warning nip, and then harder because she liked the feel of him in her mouth.

His voice was thicker when he continued. “His family’s well off, nearly owned the whole town until the Healys marched in and set up camp. His daddy runs the bank, while his uncle runs the town council. His grandfather was the county seat judge for decades.”

“I thought so.” The gleam in Miss Belle’s eyes grew brighter. “He looks rather familiar.

His granddaddy and Colonel Healy fought for my hand.”

Miss Belle’s glass of Cherry Coke quivered and slid toward the edge of the table. Rae gasped, gripping Conn’s arm tighter, her mouth dry. The old lady caught the glass and calmly took a sip before setting it back in front of her. “You know that’s the truth, honey. You also know I never looked at him after you declared your intentions.”

A breeze ruffled Miss Belle’s bangs and she giggled.

Damned if she didn’t blush, too. The old lady leered across the table at Rae. “Healy men are rather arrogant, Rae Lynn, but they’re worth the trouble. Just remember my pink parasol is at your disposal if you ever need to beat some sense into my grandson.”

Conn leaned back to whisper into her ear. “If you whack me with something, then I get to turn you over my knee.”

Miss Belle winked and slid out of the booth. “Don’t keep her out too late, Conn, or I’ll come looking for you again. I’m going to stop at Pearsons for a drink first.”

“Pearsons?” Conn frowned. “That’s a pretty rough bar, Miss Belle. Are you sure—”

“Colonel Healy assures me some very interesting goings-on have occurred there. I’m going to see for myself.” Bending down, she patted him on the shoulder and whispered loudly.

“Just a few more days and I’ll win the bet. So be a gentleman and take your hand out from under the dear girl’s dress.”

With another wink, the old lady headed outside, jumped in her white Caddy, and flew down the blacktop.

Ears roaring and face burning, Rae eased her leg-grip on his hand.

“Do you want anything else?” His voice was husky with laughter and desire. “Because I’m ready for dessert, and I don’t mean an ice cream shake. Although I’ll take the cherry on top.”

Turning a delightful shade of pink that would do Miss Belle proud, Rae slugged him in the shoulder and pushed his hand free. Laughing softly, Conn dropped a few bills on the table and drew her out of the booth. She turned to leave, and he caught a glimpse of white on the booth. Why she kept carrying the purse when she obviously cared so little about it was beyond him. He bent over to retrieve it.

As he straightened, he noticed the slick-suited man at the counter staring at her legs with a salacious twist to his smooth, cultured lips that made Conn ache to pound him to a pulp.

Smoothing the dress back down over her hips, she noticed the man ogling her, too, and sent a tight, concerned glance at Conn. He smiled reassuringly and dropped his black leather coat around her shoulders. Evidently, Dick had hassled her if other men dared look at her.

Idiot. Pressing the forgotten purse into her hand, he drew her close and whispered, “I know who you’re going home with, darlin’, and you certainly don’t look at him like you look at me.”

The worry eased on her face. “Am I going home with you?”

He took her hand, drawing her close to his side. While outwardly he remained unconcerned, he kept one eye on Jared Kent, who slid off his barstool as they approached. “I certainly hope so, at least for awhile.”

“I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure,” Kent said. “Connagher, isn’t it?”

Conn knew exactly what kind of man Mr. Slick was, and he’d lay a hand on Rae over Conn’s dead body. “And you won’t.”

“You didn’t go to school around here, did you?”

“Nope.”

The man frowned, trying to place him. Did the bastard forget the worst beating of his life? “Have you lived here long?”

“Only eight years,” Conn replied wryly, shaking his head.

He headed for the door, but the moron stepped in front of him. Conn knew the type; he just couldn’t let something go. Like a little yapper, he had to be top dog, even if the new dog on the block was a pit bull. He was too stupid and full of himself to see the teeth. “Come on, Connagher, introduce me to the girl.”

Rae wrapped both hands around his biceps, pressing closer to him, both seeking protection as well as proclaiming her loyalties. Or was she afraid she might have to hold him back? He looked down at her, letting a slow smile spread across his face. “Darlin’, he’s not worth it.”

“Do you know who I am?” the man retorted, puffing himself up.

Hard and grim, Conn knew the predator flashed in his eyes. The man finally realized his family name and wealth meant absolutely nothing at all to him. “Don’t you remember me, Kent? Fifteen years ago I rescued a girl out of your car who wasn’t too happy with your overzealous affections. Even if she hadn’t been my baby sister, I would have given you a beating. As it was…well, you’re lucky to still be breathing. Don’t make me regret my merciful decision.”

The other man paled, glanced about the room, his hands clenching at his sides.

“What? Nobody knows the truth about you? You were able to buy them all off?

Amazing.” Conn let his voice echo with menace. “Tell him who you are, darlin’.”

She raised her chin and said, “I’m his.”

“That’s right.” He lowered his voice to a rumble, and she shivered against his arm, her fingers tightening. “Lay a finger on her and lose it. Ogle her again, and I’ll rip your eyes out of your fucking skull. Now get out of my way.”

Sweat trickled down the man’s face and he glanced about the restaurant, desperately looking for a buddy to stand up with him. Shaking his head, Conn drew her around the man and walked out without another glance.

Adrenaline pumped in his veins, sending a throbbing drumbeat straight to his groin that made him grind his teeth with frustration. He’d planned to encourage Rae to test him tonight, but he was so jacked up…

“Did he really hurt your sister?”

“Vicki was only fifteen, but she’d blacked his eye and split his lip by the time I tracked them down. We’d taught her how to defend herself well. But she was scared and it took her a long time to go out on dates with guys she didn’t know very well again.” Meeting Rae’s serious eyes gleaming in the parking lot lights, he forced himself to admit the whole story. “I nearly killed him. I dragged him out of the car and laid into him, fists flying. Vicki ended up having to save him from me. Kent’s family tried to cause problems with the local sheriff, but Miss Belle marched downtown and threats of arresting me quickly disappeared. I did go home early, though, and I had the talk of my life with Daddy.”

“Surely he wasn’t angry with you for protecting your sister.”

“No, but he wasn’t pleased that I’d lost control. He said there’s two kind of men in this world: men who can control themselves, and men who can’t. Obviously Kent is a man who has absolutely no desire to control himself. He sees something he wants; he takes it. He treats women like dirt because they’re nothing to him but a quick lay in the backseat of his car.

Daddy asked did I want to be that kind of man? If not, then I’d better learn to control myself.”

“There are gray areas,” Rae protested, letting her hands settle on his waist. “I’m glad you taught that man a lesson for hurting your sister.”

“But he didn’t learn a thing, darlin’, don’t you see? He’s still the same jerk. Dick is the same jerk. They’ll always be jerks. Daddy didn’t believe in gray areas. He would have said be black, or be white, but quit moseying back and forth over the line. If you’re going to cross a line, step over it boldly. Years later, he admitted he was glad I’d beaten that punk within an inch of his life, because if Daddy had caught him hurting his baby girl…Well. A shotgun is simply a waste of lead on a man like Jared Kent.”

“Your Daddy sounds like…a very hard man.”

“He was.” Conn smiled with remembrance. “He taught me a hell of lot. Now I’m going to ask if you trust me not to cross the line tonight if I take you home with me.”

She licked her lips, her gaze dropping to his mouth. “Is this the final exam?”

“I’m ready for anything you throw at me.”

“What if I throw myself at you?”

He drew her into his arms, cradling her against him. God, she felt so small and fragile in his arms. It was all he could do not to crush her between him and the Mustang. “I’ll catch you.

Are you really mine, darlin’?”

She must have heard the catch in his voice, for she gripped him harder, tucking her body tight against him. “I never could refuse you. I’m certainly not going to start now.”

Cupping her cheek, he tilted her mouth up to his so he could whisper against her lips.

“I’m going to take you home with me for awhile, but I swear I’ll take you back to Beulah Land as soon as you ask. I also swear that we will not have sex tonight. It’s too soon. We might practice your safe word a little, if you’re up for it. I need to know what your limits are before we get too committed.”

He felt her heart thud slow and heavy. Her eyes were dark, her pupils large, liquid and shining like wet ink. She took a deep breath and a tremor shimmered through her. “I’m scared.”

“That’s exactly why you’re not coming to my bed yet. We’ll go slow and easy, Rae. I swear it.”

She gave him a little nod, her mouth trembling. Kissing her gently, he helped her into the car, hurried to his seat, and pulled out with a squeal of tires that likely left black marks on the street.

He’d dreamed of taking her home with him for five long, agonizing years. She might think his final exam would be him trying to get into her pants, but that wouldn’t even be close.

The hardest thing he’d ever do in his entire life would be allowing her to leave his house once she’d stepped foot inside.

Dear Dr. Connagher:

Last night, I let my husband hurt me.

After leaving you for that very reason, I let him hurt me. Not because I wanted to please
him, as I did you. Oh no. With you, it was like a test, a final, and I wanted desperately to pass.

You remember that final you gave me, there in your office on your desk, don’t you?

My reasoning last night went like this: If I really loved Richard, then I would do what he
wanted. I would do anything to make him happy.

But the morning-after Rae whispers that it was merely guilt, because I still dream about
you. Deep down, maybe I think that letting him hurt me was only the punishment I deserved.

He loved it. I cried with my face in the pillow. I felt nothing but pain. I wasn’t even glad
he enjoyed it. I just felt used, broken. He didn’t care that it hurt. He didn’t even hold me while I
cried.

At least you held me.

I thought I understood humiliation that day in your office when you bent me over your
desk and heated my backside while I moaned and cried out your name. But I was wrong.

Humiliation is knowing you should stand up for yourself, but you don’t. Humiliation is
knowing it’s only going to hurt, and you let someone hurt you anyway. You stay, and you stay,
and it just goes on and on. That’s humiliation. I’ve got it in spades.

And the worst part? If he keeps asking me, I’ll probably let him do it again.

Why? I wish I knew. I wish I could just say no and mean it, and he’d understand that. I
wish I’d said no when he asked me to marry him. No, no, no. Why is that so hard?

What would you have done if I’d told you no that day in your office? If you wanted to
hurt me like he did, would I have been able to tell you no? That’s why we’re not together. I’m
more afraid of you than Richard, because you…

I was afraid you would make me want it, and then hurt me. I would have asked you for
it. Shit, who am I kidding? I wanted you so badly, I would have begged you to do it again.

~ Rae

She should have known that the English professor would live in a cottage fit for Shakespeare. In the darkening dusk, it was hard to tell the exact scope of the riotous gardens surrounding the house, but the heady scent of late-blooming flowers filled the air. It must be gorgeous in full summer.