Hiding in Plain Sight (15 page)

Brand had never understood males who felt the need to hit woman and, until his village was decimated and his family was as good as destroyed, he'd never seen or heard of it.  The first camp though, had been rife with that disgusting form of abuse.  After witnessing it for the first time, he, Niko and Atin had made protection for the few females around them their mission, no matter if it was from the guards or some of the other men.  Whether it was with an intentional interruption, done with schooled innocence or with one of their hidden homemade weapons, the trio of boys soon became a force to contend with or avoid.  They were protectors and, even with their early age, took their responsibilities very seriously.

The need to safeguard and shield had never left any one of the three.

Reese glanced at Vana and again, Brand saw his girl's face soften.  Her words were quiet when she spoke.  "My life may not have been a bed of roses, but it looks like your brother's girl had it worse.  I'll treat her sweet, Bay."  Her eyes were the color of melted chocolate as their gazes met.  "I promise."

Brand didn't know how to answer except to offer another short hard squeeze as his heart swelled at her pledge.

Chapter Fourteen

I stared at the ceiling as I laid in the twin bed in the guest room of Atin's house.  Perhaps it was because the day had been restful, but I wasn't sleepy in the least.  I flipped on my side and stared at Bay, sleeping in the bed on the other side of the small white table used as a nightstand.  He was tucked on his side facing me, his face almost boyish and relaxed in sleep.  But he'd been calm since we got here and, in the few days we'd known each other, it was the kind of ease I'd hadn't ever seen.  He smiled more and laughed a lot when he spoke with his brother.

Although they didn't look like family.  Where Bayco was tall, broad with thick muscles, Atin was shorter and leaner; built more on the wiry side.  Bay's light eyes and hair contrasted with his brother's chestnut curls and dark blue eyes.  Maybe it was because he didn't have facial hair compared to Atin's full mustache, but Bay's lips seemed more pronounced.

They obviously had the same sense of humor if all the shouting and laughter over dinner was any indication.  Since they spoke Bay's other language most of the time, I wasn't in on all the funny stuff, but they made a point of summarizing their points in English if they thought I needed to know. 

But I'd already realized it was humorous stuff from the soft giggle Vana gave off every so often.

She was sweet But as I'd been warned, shy.  I'd been called over to their group of two by Atin and he introduced us.  While Vana wouldn't look at me, I still followed her into the old-fashioned kitchen after the 'pleased to meet you' left my mouth.  She'd raised a cup my direction with an eyebrow-lift and I'd nodded, which was pretty much how we communicated as I helped her get dinner made.

Mama and I spent a lot of time in the kitchen together, and I was a pretty good cook, if I did say so myself.  But Vana's way of doing things took my skills and left them in the dust.  She showed me a faster way of chopping onions, creating more uniform squares as well as blending the spices on a cutting board with the edge of a knife before dropping them into the pan. 

But it was when I managed to scald myself as I tried to follow her movements when we par-boiled the tomatoes that she opened up just a little bit.  Grabbing my burned hand in hers, she dragged me to the battered one-bowled sink and shoved my hand under cold water.  Her pretty blue eyes met mine as she asked, "better?" her voice catching on the 'r' just like when Bay spoke.

"Thank you," I offered back with a little smile.

She smiled back and that smile changed the whole of her face.  That one small expression took her from merely pretty to pretty damn beautiful with just a quirk of the corners of her mouth.  I know my shock at the change in her appearance must have shown because she deliberately shoved me lightly with her shoulder.

"Welcome," she enunciated slowly before her giggle started. 

I don't know what it is between us women, but sometimes you get one of us going and we'll all follow suit.  In that instance, it broke the ice between us and we no longer worked in silence.  She'd speak inwhatever it was language she knew, and I spoke my brand of English and we got along just fine.

"Reese?" she'd called at one point and used a hand movement to call me to where she stood.  She waved an arm in front of her and let loose with a couple of paragraphs of words I didn't understand.  There was a silver machine in front of her and a lump of dough next to it.  I had no clue what she was saying or how the device was to be used.  Seeing my confusion, she frowned then picked up a knife and sliced off a bit of the dough.  She flattened it with her hands in a patty-cake move before feeding it into the silver apparatus and, using a hand crank, she rolled the dough through.  Vana held the now thinner length up to show me, and I got a whiff of the dough.  She was hand-making pasta!

I watched her roll it through a couple of times, making it thinner and thinner in the process, before she cut the length into thin strips.  As she finished, I went back to the stove to ensure the lightly salted water in the large pot on the back burner was boiling.  Turning back to her, I nodded with an excited grin.

Whoever heard of making your own pasta noodles?

But man, they were awesome.  She'd used the ingredients we'd chopped and sautéed, seared and allowed to simmer to create a thick goulash of beef chunks and vegetables that she served over the home-made noodles.  Along with a crisp salad and fresh, fragrant bread, the meal Vana served was fit for a king.

Atin and Brand loved it too.  At one point, Atin put down his fork and offered a little speech I didn't understand as his hand waved around the table full of food before snagging Vana's hand and bringing it to his lips.  She dropped her eyes and flushed, which was a great look on her combined with that amazing smile.

When he'd finished, she offered her own reply while her eyes remained on her plate.  At the end, though, she glanced my way from beneath her lashes and tentatively slid her hand across the table to me.  Without thinking, I moved my hand to capture hers and squeezed her fingers, smiling huge. 

I wasn't sure, but I think I had her approval in helping with dinner.

As soon as Vana and I released, Brand caught my fingers and copied Atin's move by bringing my hand to his lips.  "Amazing, my draga," he murmured against my skin.  "Thank you."

"Why are you thanking
me
?" I asked, my heartbeat beginning to make its presence known in some of the more tender areas of my body.  "Vana was the chef."

"For being you, my beautiful Reese," he said as he gently released my hand after performing a slow, stealthy, wet touch on my hand.  The feel of his tongue on me, the heat in his eyes along with the words, found me squeezing my thighs together underneath the table.

Vana gave me another glimpse of herself as we did the kitchen clean up.  Elbows deep in the sudsy water, she raised her face to mine after a loud burst of laughter from the men at the table made its way to us.

"Good to hear them laugh, yes?" she asked carefully with a quirk of her lips.  "Atin needs laugh."

I pulled the damp dish towel through my hands before I placed my hand on Vana's back.  "We all do, sister.  We all do."

Her nod and smile were the only reply as she turned her face back down to the sink.

After a while, I heard her voice again.

"Friends, Reese?" And there was something in her voice, a note or a ton, that let me know that this woman, this formerly broken bit of girl, was offering something precious.  It was a gift, pure and simple.  A gift I was not going to refuse.

"Yes, Vana.  Friends," I confirmed as my hands stilled on the pot I was drying.  I tilted my head until it reached her shoulder, and my head bumped against her jaw.   I felt her head lean into mine, and I couldn't help the sigh that escaped my lips.

*.*.*.*.*

Brand watched her as she tossed on the small bed across from him.  He was tired, true.  But it was a good fatigue born from good company, wonderful food and the release of the need for wariness every single second.

She looked beautiful in the moonlight spilling in through the windows of the guest room, her hair a crimson curtain in the reflected glow.  And he realized he wanted her again.

The night before had not been something he'd planned but had simply happened.  His body's need combined with her own special brand of sexy had been too tempting, too much for him to refuse.  And when she'd responded to him, how her body had answered his, left his carefully controlled passion on the floor of the roadhouse.

But their joining had hit him at a level he'd never experienced.

More than in his times with his beloved Nadia.  Because with Reese, he hadn't needed to check his moves, his speech before they were done or said.  More than with his casual couplings since he'd never considered partner's pleasure as he'd moved within them.

No, the sweet piece who was tossing and turning across the small room had given him her beauty in its purest form.  He'd known she wasn't untried but only unskilled by her sweet gasps when he'd touched her; her moans, as she'd found delight as he'd simply stroked and caressed.  Her innocent whimpers had become imbedded within the deep recesses of himself.  Places he hadn't remembered were still there.

And he deliberately chose to ignore on how they'd finished.

He tried but failed to contain his grin as he whispered, "you cannot sleep, my Reese?"

Her body stilled and he caught the glint of her eyes as her head moved towards where he lay.

"No, Bay.  Sorry if I woke you," was her soft call back.  His cock, already hard and full, throbbed at the sound of her voice.

"The beds are squeaky, yes?"

He saw the crimson fall move as she nodded, agreeing with him.

Which was all he needed.

He pushed back the sheet and stood before the bed frame, turning to capture his mattress and dragged it to the floor.  He arranged the top sheet and pillow before turning towards her form, now half-raised up on her elbow.  "Come to me, sweet one," he instructed as he lowered himself onto the now floor level bedding that took up the space between the other furniture.

She didn't play coy and didn't waste time as she swiftly moved to where he was reclined, pressing her side up against him, her head nestled in the spot between his shoulder and neck.

"Guess I got used to sleeping next to you," she explained, wiggling her full hips as she moved closer.  His arm moved to capture her and bring her tightly to him.  He felt the soft press of her generous breasts through her little top against his ribcage as her plump thigh raised and draped over his leg.

His hard length bobbed as his balls moved upwards at the sensation of having her pressed against him again.  He would've preferred to be skin-to-skin but just having her touching him was enough.

"I like your family," she said into the night, finally settling into stillness.

He tightened his arm, his mind concentrating on how to shift his hold from a friendly hug to something more carnal when she raised her face towards his.  "They're funny and sweet.  Vana…"

His lips hit hers without him planning the move and as soon as their mouths met, all attempts at civility and simple friendliness were gone.  His tongue plunged and was met by hers full strength and with strokes that had him groaning.

Brand moved her onto her back to better access what she offered, and he felt her arms encircle his neck.  His hips pressed, grinding his cock into the firmness of her thigh.  Her hand moved to his ass and clenched, pulling him into the heated furrow created by her open legs.  Once seated, he felt her legs entwine with his own.

Her deep groan told him he was exactly where he needed to be, and he flexed to rub against her heat.  Bountiful hips raised and pressed against him in reply. 

Releasing her mouth and dropping his head into the fragrant wonder of her neck, he let his mouth do what it wanted, which was to taste.  "My Reese," he'd moaned.

"I could come with just this, Bay," she whispered into his newly exposed scalp.  She thrusted, her slit opened just enough to cup his steel rod, to stroke through his boxers and her wet panties.  Wet enough to soak through his shorts and tease him with her dew.  It was her heady scent, wafting up from between their bodies that called to him, impelled him to get closer. 

He needed to slow things down, do something that would give him some breathing room, so he used a hand and brought one of her breasts to his mouth.  But he hadn't counted on her strong reaction to his gentle sucking through the material, the thrust of her hips almost unseating him.

"Bay!" came the harsh whisper followed by a moan.  That sound, wrenched from inside her was his undoing.

Hand to waist, he yanked off his underwear before quickly reaching for hers.  But she was ahead of him, pulling her top off before her thumbs speared the waistband of her own undies, ripping them down and off her ankles.