Last Kiss (8 page)

“But if you found that —”

“I don’t need them and I’d prefer to not have them.” Her voice lowered. “If I have any say in it.” I didn’t miss her innuendo, the insinuation that his care now wasn’t unlike the time she’d spent here as his captive.

She’d hit him below the belt. He’d told me that had been the worst of him, that “keeping” her had been the worst thing he’d done.

I saw the struggle within him. Felt it, even. He hated to lose, and, wanting to show him I understood, I lowered my hand to cover his on my thigh.

But he pulled his hand away. Meeting her eyes, he set down the reins. “If that’s what you’d prefer.”

“It is.” She beamed triumphantly. Then, looking down at her plate for the first time, she said, “Meat and potatoes. Of course.” Her disdain was evident.

To my left, Joe’s leg bounced up and down nervously. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who felt the tension. I wondered if my unease was as obvious as his.

“The asparagus is perfect,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.

As though I hadn’t spoken, Reeve said tersely, “The potatoes were for you, Amber. Jeb said soft and bland for your diet. If you prefer, I can have some soup brought up.”

“Potatoes are fine. Thanks.” She said it as if this were her concession. She refused to be hovered over, but she’d allow him to choose her menu.

I imagined it was the way they’d been when they were together – constantly butting heads while she fought for her independence and he demanded the right to attend to her needs. That had always been the difference between her and I – she saw that sort of attention as stifling where as I’d found submission to be freeing.

But maybe Reeve enjoyed the challenge. Maybe I was too easily subdued. Wouldn’t it be more of a victory to top someone who refused to be topped?

I finished off my wine and signaled for the server to bring me another glass.
My
alcohol content wasn’t being monitored, thank goodness. Maybe if I had enough of it, I could drown the twin beasts of envy and insecurity that lived inside me, or, at least, lull them both to sleep.

We fell into a silence that was not at all comfortable but a hundred times preferable to the conversation that had taken place. Amber picked at her food, ignoring the steak altogether and barely making a dent in her potatoes.

Eventually, she sat back in her chair and sighed as she looked out through the deck railings to the ground below. “You got a dog?”

I followed her line of vision to see the scraggly black Lab that I’d seen around the ranch since I’d arrived. “Jenkins,” I said, recalling the name Brent had used. “Isn’t he a stray?” Not that I cared much about the dog, but it was a far safer topic of discussion than the previous one.

Reeve nodded. “He’s hung around the last few weeks. I’m pretty sure Parker’s feeding him even though he says he isn’t.”

“Parker.” Amber waited until she caught my eye. “Have you met him, Em?”

“I have.” I remembered the drunken references Parker had made to me about Amber one night. He’d referred to her as a pain in the ass and a bunch of trouble.

He’d also been in the stable when Reeve had stripped me of my clothing and bridled me like a horse. I bit back a smile at the memory.

Amber’s face lit up with a naughty gleam, and I suddenly realized she had memories of her own.

Before I could wonder too long, Reeve clarified. “Emily doesn’t know him like you know him.”

It had been obvious in the stable that sometimes Reeve had shared his women with Parker. I’d felt pride that he hadn’t wanted to share me.

Now, as it became clear that Reeve had shared Amber, I felt sick with jealousy. “Oh. No. I don’t know him like that.”

At least Reeve had helped keep my cover, his words shielding me from her speculation about us without being dishonest. I told myself I was, but with as much as he’d withdrawn since Amber joined us, I had to wonder if his discretion had anything to do with me.

It was also possible I was overthinking the situation.

More wine. That’s what I needed. Clearly.

Amber laughed. “Well. Anyway.” She chuckled again as she sat forward to put a spoonful of food in her mouth. “Good potatoes.”

I concentrated on finishing my meal, focusing on the mechanics of eating, thoroughly chewing each bite before swallowing. It was tempting to race through so I could excuse myself and run away from the awful awkwardness. Thankfully, the silence resumed, but it stretched so taut I feared it would create a perilous chasm when it finally broke. A chasm that would consume me entirely.

I’d just set down my fork when Amber jutted out her chin and declared, “I have something to say.” She cleared her throat. “This might not be the best moment for this, but who knows when I’ll be feeling this good again, and with your busy schedule, Reeve, it might be the only chance I get.”

I bristled at her use of his name, as if it were mine to use and she had no right to it. Which of course was ridiculous.

Reeve placed his napkin over his empty plate and cocked his head. “I’m listening.”

“I want to say that…” Her lip quivered, and it hit me that she was nervous, that she’d been nervous through the entire meal. And why wouldn’t she be? This was the first time she’d spent any time with her former love at length.

She cleared her throat again, then plunged forward with slightly more confidence. “I want to say I’m sorry for how I left things between us.” She paused, and my pulse jolted up in speed. “And about how I reacted. Running to Micha—to Michelis – was one of the worst decisions I’ve made in my life, and I’ve made quite a few. But I deserve what he —”

Reeve interrupted, his words softer than I’d heard him use with her since the night she’d arrived. “You didn’t deserve anything, An—” He stopped himself before the nickname crossed his lips completely. “You didn’t deserve it.”

“I disagree, but that’s not what —”

He cut her off again. “No. That’s not acceptable. He’s the lowest of scum, and it doesn’t matter what you said or did —”

She raised her voice to quash his. “The point is that I made a mistake. I was overly confident, and I was stupid to —”

“You weren’t stupid. He’s good at manipulating.”

“He is.” She let a beat pass. “Can I finish?”

“Go ahead.” His voice was tight with reluctance, and I wondered if he was as apprehensive as I was.

Probably not. The interaction was intimate and, not for the first time, I felt like a voyeur. It wasn’t a conversation I was meant to be part of. I debated excusing myself to let them work out their past baggage alone, but I couldn’t move. I was eager for her to clear the air, even if it had nothing to do with me. Whatever she had to say to Reeve, I was interested in hearing it as well.

“I was going to say that I was stupid to leave you.” She took a breath, and I stopped breathing entirely. “I still love you, Reeve, and if you have any room in your heart for forgiveness, I’d really like a second chance.”

Everything around me dimmed, as though a curtain had fallen over my vision. My balance seemed to shift, too, even though I was still sitting, as if my entire world had tilted on its axis.

“I have to go,” I muttered, pushing back my chair and jumping to my feet.

Behind me, I heard the scrape of another chair. “Emily’s right,” Joe said. This is obviously a private conversation. We’ll just let you…”

His voice trailed off as I disappeared into the house. I didn’t stop as I made it through the library and down the hallway, past the main hall. At the front door, I kept going, bounding down the steps two at a time. I followed a trail that led who-knew-where, gulping air, trying to get oxygen into my lungs without much luck.

“Emily!” Joe called after me, his words barely registering over the one thought pulsing with deafening thunder in my head –
I knew it. I knew it, I knew it, I knew it.

I didn’t turn back, thinking if I kept going maybe I could outrun the reality we’d both just walked out on.

But he kept following. “Emily, would you please stop?”

I couldn’t stop. My hand clutched at the stitch in my side, and I still couldn’t get a decent breath, but I kept going.

Joe jogged to catch up with me. Then he matched his stride to mine, walking at my side. “Are you okay?”

“Does it look like I’m fucking okay?” I snapped, startling him.

He didn’t respond, walking alongside me quietly for several minutes.

Eventually, the phrase hammering inside slipped past my lips. “I knew it.”

“Knew what?”

“That it was inevitable.” Conversation was difficult with the lack of air, but somehow I managed short phrases. “That it was too good. To be true. I knew it. I
knew
it.”

“What was too good to be true?” Joe honestly seemed to not be following. “You and Reeve? Please tell me you’re joking.”

I threw him a look that was meant to kill. “You know what? I don’t need your fucking commentary on this.”

“Hey. I’m not…” He grabbed my arm, stopping me. “Hold on, all right? You’re going to pass out if you keep this up.”

I yanked my arm out of his grasp, but I obeyed. He encouraged me to bend over, and I did, placing my hands on my thighs and letting my head fall between my knees as I forced my breaths to slow and even.

“Okay,” he said, his hand patting at the small of my back. “I don’t particularly like the guy. But I respect him. Sort of. If he’s really not into any of the shady dealings he seems connected to, then I definitely respect him. More importantly, I like you. So if this guy is
the guy,
then…” He couldn’t bring himself to finish that statement. “All right. I won’t go that far.”

I peered up at him. “You suck at this.”

He crouched down so he was at eye level. “Here’s the thing. That guy is into you. If you’re out here upset because you think you’re losing him to your drug-addict friend —”

“That isn’t who she is.”

His features were soft but the look he shot me was skeptical. “You haven’t seen her in a long time – are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure.” I straightened. Now that I’d stopped walking, my body registered the cold, and I wrapped my arms around myself as I considered his question.

The truth was, there were things about Amber I was no longer sure of. But it didn’t really matter. The one thing I did know was enough. “Even if she isn’t,” I said, “if she wants him, I have to step out of the way. That’s all there is to it.”

Joe rose to his full height. “Is this some fucked-up rule between girlfriends?”

“It’s a fucked-up rule between
us
. I can’t take a man from her. I won’t.” Any other explanation would be a waste of breath, and I still hadn’t quite gotten mine back.

He gave a skeptical shrug. “Seems like she’s the one taking the guy from you considering that you are the one who was here when I brought her back.”

“I was only with him because of her.”

“No, you weren’t.” He knew me better than I’d thought.

But the reasons I’d been with him didn’t matter either. Nor did it matter that I would bend to him the way he liked. Because the more I thought about it, the more I was convinced that it was Amber’s backbone that was what attracted Reeve to her. “He’ll take her back.”

“Don’t be so certain of that. You’re too blinded by her to see it for some reason, but she’s a tragic mess.”

“Doesn’t matter. Reeve was in love with her.”

Joe shook his head. “Not anymore.”

As if he knew Reeve. As if he knew anything.

“He loved her so much he wanted to marry her, Joe.” Saying the words out loud was liberating. Admitting the truth I hadn’t wanted to face. That Reeve had loved Amber deeply, and that kind of love didn’t just go away. “He loved her so much he kept her here and wouldn’t let her go for weeks and weeks.”

Joe put a hand up. “Whoa. What?”

Fuck.
I hadn’t been thinking.

And I didn’t have the energy to try to cover my mistake. “That’s why she called me. She wanted to leave him, and he… did his best to prevent that.”

“Amber told you this?” He was back to investigator mode.

“She did. But Reeve told me first.” I watched the wheels spinning behind his eyes. “He let her go in the end, Joe.” His jaw tightened, and I pressed on with my defense. “I know what you’re thinking —”

“No,” he interrupted. “You can’t have any possible idea what I’m thinking.”

I let my mouth shut. It was appalling – I knew it was. Especially to a decent man like Joe. There was no way I could explain that I understood it – understood the other side, anyway. I understood what it felt like to want to be mastered and controlled and so it was much easier for me to accept that someone would want to master and control someone else and not be a sick person. Or, at least was as sick as I was.

Joe stared me down, though, as if trying to understand the impossible. He shook his head back and forth, and finally he seemed to give up. “Let me tell you this, Emily – he has eyes for no one but you. And, fuck, I wish it weren’t true. Especially after hearing how he treats the women he’s into, like they’re possessions…”

His voice trailed off leaving a silence filled with judgment so heavy I felt naked and ashamed.

Eventually he threw his hands up. “You know what? I can’t do this with you. It sucks you’re upset right now. Too bad it’s not over someone who deserves it. Because, trust me, neither of them do.”

He didn’t wait for me to respond, turning to head back toward the house.

I watched after him, wishing that his disgust could move me. Wishing I was the type of person who would run after him instead of a person who was wishing that Reeve had been the one to follow after me instead.

Despite the cold, I resumed my walk along the trail, following it over the ranch landscape until the sun got so low that I had to turn back for fear of getting lost and stuck out in the middle of nowhere.

The exercise had been good for my head, though, and, while I refused to steal a man from Amber, Joe’s words had sunk in. Was it really stealing when she’d left him? Maybe she wouldn’t even mind once I explained the situation. There were other men she would have willingly walked away from for my sake. Other men that she
had
walked away from. For me.

I didn’t want to wonder if I could do the same.

I had to talk to her.

And I had to talk to Reeve. I couldn’t know if her declaration had changed his feelings or intentions until I did.

It was dark when I made it back, and my thoughts were so turned in on themselves that I didn’t notice the red butt of a lit cigarette or the man leaning against the side of the house until I was almost on top of him.

“Oh, hi! I didn’t see you there.” I sounded flustered and on edge.

“Sorry to have surprised you.” The man’s head tipped toward me. “Emily, right?” he asked, as he exhaled a puff of smoke.

I squinted at him, trying to place him, but I couldn’t. In fact, I was certain I hadn’t seen him before. He had to be one of the ranch guests, which didn’t explain how he knew me. “That’s right,” I said tentatively. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

He tilted his head as he took another slow draw from his cigarette. “Nope. We haven’t.” Even in the dark, I didn’t miss the hungry way his eyes groped my frame.

He took a step toward me, and I readied myself to run. Just then, the front door slammed open. I looked up to the porch to see a couple of Reeve’s men leaving the house. When I turned back, the man wasn’t there anymore. I glanced around and caught sight of him circling around behind the building.

A man didn’t run off that easily if he hadn’t had ill intent.

I shivered. I wondered if all of the guests were that creepy. No wonder Reeve was wary of them. Suddenly, I wanted to run and tell him about the encounter.

Then, at the top of the stairs, I noticed his door was shut, which meant he was in there. But what if he wasn’t alone? What if the conversation with Amber at dinner had led them to his bedroom?

Before I let myself get worked up, I looked to Amber’s door. It was shut too. It was the first time I’d seen it closed since her arrival, and my mind jumped to a hundred different possible conclusions. Maybe she was exercising her new babysitter-free status. Maybe she was puking again in the bathroom and wanted privacy. Or she was making out with one of the ranchers. Or crying over whatever Reeve had said to her after I’d left them.

Or she wasn’t in there at all.

I could easily knock on her door to find out, but I wasn’t sure I could face her if she answered, and I was absolutely sure I couldn’t take it if she didn’t.

Hoping I would be better equipped to handle the situation after a good night’s sleep, I retreated to my own room with a sigh of resignation.

Though it was late enough to go to bed, my emotions were too frazzled for sleep. And I was cold. My evening walk had set a chill in my bones that lingered even in the warm house. While I wished it was Reeve warming me up, a hot shower would be just as effective at raising my body temperature and would also calm my nerves.

I stripped, tossing my clothes onto the chair in the corner of my room, then went to start the shower. I turned the water on without getting in, sticking my hand under the stream until it was hot enough. Then I crossed to the linen closet at the other end of the bathroom and picked out a couple of towels. When I shut the door, I turned back toward the shower and nearly jumped out of my skin.

“Reeve!” I patted my breastbone, trying to calm the thudding in my chest. “Goddammit, you scared the hell out of me.” Between his sneaky arrival and the lurking cowboy outside, I wouldn’t have been surprised if I was on my way to a heart attack.

His lip curled up with amusement.

I scowled. “I’m glad you think sending me to an early grave is funny.” But I wasn’t really irritated by his arrival in the least. I was glad, and I was certain the accelerated tempo of my heart rate had as much to do with his appearance at all as it did with the element of surprise.

He leaned his hip against the vanity and folded his arms across his chest, a position that highlighted both his broad shoulders and toned biceps. “You like it when I keep you guessing,” he said dismissively, not an entirely inaccurate statement, though it was a bit discomforting that he knew it so well.

“And
I
like
you
on your toes,” he added, his eyes dark as they slid the length of my body. I felt them like silk as they caressed over the slopes of my breasts, down the plane of my stomach, zeroing in on the landing strip above my pussy. Suddenly I’d warmed up quite sufficiently, the pool of moisture between my thighs as hot as the steam gathering in the room.

I met his scrutiny with ogling of my own, biting my lip as my eyes landed on the large bulge at the front of his pants. He was barefoot, and I tried not to wonder if that meant he’d been undressed once already in the evening. Tried not to wonder if it was his first or second erection of the night.

Bringing the towels in front of me as a much-needed barrier, I mirrored his crossed arms. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

He shrugged. “You wouldn’t come to my bed so I had to come to yours.”

It was surprising how easily happiness bubbled in my chest. Teasingly, I threw his words from the night before back at him. “This isn’t my bed.”

He was already walking toward me. “It’s close enough.” The towels fell to the floor as he seized my hips and turned my back to the counter. His mouth captured mine, greedily stealing my breath and sense of reason with his lips and tongue.

God, I was hungry for him. I roved my hands over his chest, wanting to touch all of his body at once, delighting at the hard muscles that met the underside of my palms. He was solid everywhere. A wall of strength and potency that could so easily overpower me. I was weak in his presence, incapable of anything except to yield.

A warning bell sounded in the back of my head, though, urging me to get my wits together and address… something. It was difficult to remember what exactly when his hands were on my breasts, squeezing and pinching. The bite of pain sent jolts of electricity through my nervous system, signals that my brain read as pleasure. Pleasure I couldn’t resist.

No.
I
could
resist. I had to.

I pulled my head back, abruptly breaking his kiss. “Wait,” I said – moaned, actually, as his mouth found the shell of my ear to torture instead. “What about —?”

“The only question you should be asking right now is how fast can I make you come.” He relinquished a breast and slid his hand between us to tease my clit.

“Ah.” I struggled to remain focused. “But, I need to know what happened after —” My back arched as he sank two long fingers into my pussy. “Oh, my God, that feels too good. You have to stop. We have to talk about earlier. I can’t —”

With one hand still buried inside me, he clamped the other over my mouth. “Emily, if you don’t shut the fuck up, I’m going to find something to gag you with.” And then, as though ensuring I had no will to argue, he crooked his fingers and stroked them against that sensitive spot in my cunt, sending me into a dizzying state of ecstasy.

Maybe talking could wait after all.

Words dissolved on my tongue. The sounds that emerged from my throat were breathy gasps as he rubbed me toward orgasm. Then, when I got there, when I toppled over the edge, my head spinning from the magic of his fingers, he devoured my cries with a bruising kiss that magnified the intensity of my climax.

I was shaking, but eager for more, when he picked me up and set me on the counter edge. His hands were quick with his belt, yet it felt like decades passed before his cock was out and notched at my opening and another lifetime before he was pushing inside of me with a hard, merciless thrust.

He pounded into me, giving me no time to adjust or catch my breath before adopting a brutal tempo. He fit inside me so perfectly. His stroke hit every sensitive spot of my pussy even before I clenched around him. And the fierce way he impaled me… I adored it. He fucked me so savagely that I had to grip onto the counter edge for support. I held on for the ride, my eyes focused on his expression. Both cruelty and delight played on his features, and while it disgusted me to admit, it was the combination of those emotions that turned me on. He was ruthless, and he enjoyed being ruthless. And he enjoyed that his viciousness was what pleased me the most.

With no break in his assault, he placed his palm flat against my neck and pushed me back until my head was pinned to the mirror behind me. I couldn’t swallow, couldn’t get a breath in with his hand blocking my windpipe. Tension pulled at my insides and another orgasm stretched toward release, building, building, building…

But he let up too soon, and the pressure calmed to a steady buzz, while the explosion I desired was elusive and just out of reach. I clung to the dizziness of “almost there,” wishing it was enough to send me soaring. “Please,” I implored. “Please.”

Reeve smirked – he loved it when I begged – but he didn’t take me where I wanted to go. Instead, with his fingers pinching my chin, he twisted my face so that my cheek pressed against the glass.

“Look,” he said in reverence.

The mirror ran the whole wall behind me then wrapped around the vanity so, facing this direction, I could see our reflections in the glass, half eclipsed by steam from the shower. He let go of me long enough to wipe the fog then resumed his grip on my jaw. I stared, transfixed by the sight of his cock driving into me over and over.

With my focus where he wanted it, Reeve rearranged my legs, bringing one foot up to brace on the counter and propping the other in the sink. Now I was angled so that my cunt could better be seen in the mirror. It was naughty and erotic and I couldn’t stop staring.

“Look at that,” he said again, his fingers jabbing into my skin. “The way you let me use you is so beautiful.”

Beautiful.
It
was
beautiful. The way he had me spread out awkwardly across the bathroom sink, naked while he was still clothed – it was vile and wicked and oh, so beautiful.

“I can’t control myself when I’m inside you.” His voice was ragged and threadbare. “I want to tear you apart. I want to rip you to shreds.” He moved both of his hands to grasp my thighs, tilting my pelvis so that his thrusts hit even deeper. “I want to destroy you. Want to fuck you to pieces. Want to shatter you. Want to break you.”

His awful, wonderful words set a storm to gather low inside me, and I could tell that this time it wouldn’t back down. I shifted my hands from the counter to his forearms to brace myself for its attack. The movement drew his attention from the mirror to my face.

“Want to break you,” he repeated, his words more of a rumble than actual speech.

“You do,” I said, peering up under heavy lids, my voice a mere rasp. “You do break me. Every time.”

Reeve’s eyes sparked in awe, then the muscles in his neck grew taut and his rhythm stuttered. With a low growl, he froze and spilled into me, his fingers digging so deep into my skin I was sure they’d leave bruises on my thighs.

It was so hot how he defiled and wrecked me. So hot how he loved to see me devastated. So hot that I joined him in his release. My mouth fell open and my climax took over, coarsely racking through my body. Even with the mirror supporting my back, I was freefalling, spinning with pleasure. Only a thin layer of sweat and steam covered my body, but it felt like I’d been pulled underwater into a whirlpool of bliss.

Reeve put himself away, then watched me as I finished, as if completely enamored with my orgasm. As if completely enamored with me.

It was somewhat disconcerting to feel his eyes so heavy on me. He’d seen me come so many times before, but I’d never noticed him so intent. I lowered my gaze, but he lifted my chin, forcing me to meet his stare head-on.

With a gentle touch, he swept a lock of sweat-drenched hair from my forehead. “Every time?”

He’d been tender with me in the past, but it wasn’t his usual M.O., and it startled me. Moved me as I realized it came from a place of concern.

“Yes,” I answered honestly, because he
did
break me, every time that he stuck his cock inside me, every time that he made me climax, every time that he touched me. Outside of the moment, when the sex was over and we were people instead of sex-driven beasts, it sounded horrible. Who would want to be broken by her lover? Who would want to be destroyed?

I do.
I always did. I longed for it and needed it. I needed
him
.

I caught his hand and pressed the back of it to my cheek. “It’s the only reason I ever want to be someone who’s put together. So that you can break me all over again.”

Studying me intently, he skimmed his knuckles down around the curve of my jaw. His thumb grazed along my mouth, slowly. I held perfectly still, not wanting to break the trance, afraid even the rise and fall of my breath would end whatever moment we were having.

Finally, he leaned in and pressed his lips softly to mine. Again. Then again, and this time his tongue slid through the part in my mouth and the chaste caress turned deep and luxurious, but ever considerate. Even when his hands moved to pull my hair and claw at my neck, affection dominated the tone of our kiss.

It was frightening and perfect, the way we molded together, the way our tongues danced. As long as it lasted, I let myself be in it. Instead of analyzing what it meant or panicking about the intimacy or worrying about the woman in the room next door, I simply took what he gave, returning it in kind, forgetting everything but his taste and his touch and him, him, him.

When it was over, he pulled back, but not away, the connection remaining even when physical contact had ceased.