Melt Into You (26 page)

Every time he eased his pelvis back in that slow rhythm, her inner muscles clenched, missing his presence the second he was gone. She moved her hands to his shoulders, her nails digging into the honed muscles, a silent plea for him to take her all. To take her hard. To make her forget about tomorrow.

He broke away from the kiss. “You okay, baby? I don’t want to hurt you. I know you and Andre . . .”

A hot flash of shame lit up her cheeks at the reminder she’d already slept with one man tonight. Her gaze darted away from his. She mumbled, “I’m fine.”

“Hey.” He cupped her face, forcing her to look at him. “Don’t you dare be embarrassed. I’m not Daniel. I won’t make you pay for something I gave you permission to do.”

“I’ve never been with Andre without you there. I didn’t know how you’d—”

“Did you enjoy it?”

She bit her lip. “Yes.”

“You love him?”

She tried to look away again, but he held her chin firm. “I—I can’t love you both.”

“Says who, baby?” He ran a thumb over her lips. “We both love you back. Fuck the rules.”

She blinked away fresh tears.

“And you know what it fucking does to me thinking of you two rolling around in that studio of yours?” His cock flexed inside of her, answering for him. “I’m just sorry I wasn’t there to watch.”

She peeked at him from beneath her lashes. “We took pictures.”

“
Ah, hell
,” he said, the agony of restraint crossing his features. He thrust into her hard enough to make her cry out. “You drive me crazy, Ev. If you’re sore, you better tell me now, ’cause otherwise, I’m ready to fuck you into next week.”

“Do it,” she begged. “Please.”

“Grab the headboard and don’t let go,” he ordered. He lifted himself to a kneel and shoved her knees toward her chest, spreading her so wide she thought she might break, and then he plunged deep.

She moaned so loud she worried she’d wake those in the neighboring rooms. The position seated him so gratifyingly deep. He planted his palms on the back of her thighs, holding her in place, and fucked into her with erotic brutality.

Her eyelids wanted to fall shut, the wallop of sensations overwhelming, but she didn’t want to miss the view. The ferocity burning in Jace’s green eyes, the golden skin now glazed with sweat, the muscles bunching in his chest. God, how would she ever be able to go back to not having him? Her fingers strangled the simple square slats of the headboard as she forced all thoughts away and let herself fall into the moment.

Jace changed the angle, set her ankles on his shoulders, and freed his hands so that he could touch her clit while he continued to move inside her. Her entire being seemed to contract at the first touch to the swollen nub, his cock simultaneously rubbing against a spot inside her that sent a zing through her nerve endings.
Oh,
my
.

The corner of his mouth rose in a wicked smirk as if to say,
Gotcha
.

Before she’d met the two guys, she’d determined that the G-spot was a myth. But just like with everything else, Jace and Andre blew what she thought she’d known about herself out of the water.

“Jace,” she pleaded as he continued his dual assault, her knuckles aching from her grip. “Sir, I don’t know if I can—”

“Go for it, baby,” he said, short of breath himself. “Come for me.”

Her breath wheezed out as she let the tide take her under. The feel of his cock, his fingers, her still stinging bottom, the burn of her muscles from the position, all of it swirled into one massive ball of electricity, pulsing through her with relentless force. Then he hit that internal spot again and everything burst through the seams.

Her scream seemed yanked from the core of her being as the orgasm claimed her body. Words, some intelligible some not, spewed from her lips. She called his name, she called him
sir
, she called to God . . . but when she called out
I
love you
, Jace went over his own precipice.

Fluid, hot and sweet, jetted into her, and his groan joined hers as they tumbled into oblivion together.

Afterward, he rolled off her and gathered her against him, spooning her with his large body. Minutes passed and she thought he’d dozed, but his quiet voice slipped in her ear. “Thank you for that. I’ve never gone bare since I was with you the first time.”

Her lips parted. “What? Not your wif—”

“Condoms for birth control.” He nuzzled her neck. “I’m so glad you were my first.”

The sentiment tugged at her, made her heart ache. How was she going to do what she needed to do? She retreated to the safety of teasing. “Me, too. I thought it was impossible for me to be your first anything, Mr. Experience.”

He snorted. “Are you calling me a slut?”

She waggled her rear against his crotch. “Nah, I was thinking more man whore.”

He pinched her butt. “Smartass.”

“Said the pot to the kettle.”

He kissed her shoulder. “How ’bout being my first love? Does that count for something? ’Cause you’ve been holding that title for a long time, Ev.”

She looked away. “I was just a dumb kid, Jace.”

“We both were, but that doesn’t mean my love for you was any less real.” His voice clogged with emotion. “I can’t even tell you what it was like when I woke up the next day and realized you were gone—that I might never see you again.”

Dread curled in her stomach. He rolled her over to face him, but she couldn’t look him in the eye.

He pushed the dampened hair off her forehead. “Ask me to stay, Evan. Ask me to stay, and we’ll face whatever tomorrow brings together. Don’t run away from me again.”

The soft plea in his voice wrecked her. Ripped out her heart and left it beating helplessly in his hands.

She couldn’t answer, so she kissed him long and deep, lacing her fingers in his hair, holding him against her, memorizing the feel of him, his scent. Imprinting every nuance on her brain.

Because of all the commands he’d given her, he’d finally given the one she couldn’t obey.

An hour later, he was asleep and she was dressed and packed. She took one last look at him sprawled over the bed, his chest rising with steady breaths, his face smoothed of worry. A picture she knew she’d never be able to erase from her memory.

Then she opened the door and walked away. Leaving her heart behind with him.

TWENTY-FIVE

Jace stretched an arm across the bed, reaching for
warmth, for Evan, but his hand hit the nightstand before he found anything solid. And without even opening his eyes, he knew. Knew she wasn’t in the shower or downstairs getting a cup of bad hotel coffee.

She was gone.

He hadn’t been enough to keep her there.

He rolled onto his back, disappointment enveloping him like an oil slick, weighing down his limbs and coating his throat. He’d lost her again.

She’d told him she loved him back. He’d believed her. But she’d left anyway to go take the goddamned fall for a friend, sacrificing her own chance at something true. All to keep a promise? Or was that just an excuse to let Jace down easy? If Daniel wasn’t in the picture, would Evan have given something with him and Andre a real go?

He’d offered Evan everything he had—his heart on a silver platter complete with a little sprig of parsley and an I love you. And she’d turned tail anyway.

He stared at the ceiling, the hazy light of dawn shifting across and changing shades as the sun rose higher and peeked through the parted curtains. The jet-engine blast of the hotel’s air conditioner offered an ear-numbing soundtrack to his warring thoughts. What the fuck was he supposed to do now?

Every ounce of caveman in him demanded that he get his ass out of bed and go after her. Track her down and cuff her to him until she agreed to give him another chance. Show her he could make her happy. But he’d made the mistake of chasing a woman who didn’t really want him. Once.

He wasn’t going to have his nuts handed to him again. He’d pursued Diana until she’d given in. She’d played his ego with PhD level expertise—an intricate dance that had hypnotized Jace into believing that he was the only man for her. The only one who could take care of her the way she needed. She’d exploited his need to feel capable, the need to prove he could be someone’s hero and not just the family screw up.

Looking back, he could see how manipulative and unstable she’d been. His divorce attorney had called Diana a borderline personality—needy, attention-seeking, emotionally destructive. But Jace had fallen in love and stumbled right into the snare she’d set out for him. He’d spent the marriage like a lovesick idiot trying to be Mr. Ultimate Husband. She’d spent it emptying his bank account and fucking the guy she really wanted.

Never would he let himself be humiliated like that again. If Evan thought her designer imposter relationship with Dr. Dan was what would make her happy, then so be it. Jace was done campaigning otherwise. Evan had proven the mantra he’d been preaching for the last five years. He was just a good time, a fun lay, not anyone’s superhero.

And the first rule in life: Stick to what you’re good at.

Now it’d be even easier to do that. Because whatever hope for love that had survived after his divorce had officially snuck out of his hotel room without even leaving a note.

*  *  *

Evan sat in the lobby area of The Ranch, fastening and
unfastening the clasp of her watch, the rhythm of the repeated clicking like a metronome for her frayed nerves. Breathe in. Breath out. Don’t think. Don’t feel.

She’d driven away from the hotel with no idea where she was headed, simply knowing that she couldn’t stay there and she couldn’t go home. Wherever home was anyway. Suddenly she felt like the last “home” she’d had was when her mother was alive. Everywhere else she’d lived after that, she’d been an outsider. A burden in some cases. An accessory in others.

Her car had found its way to the interstate heading out of the city without much conscious guidance from her. She had no idea if The Ranch was the kind of place you could drop into without a reservation, but it was worth a try. At least here she could hole away in some cabin and fall apart without an audience.

The front desk attendant had been nice enough when Evan had dragged her bloodshot self through the front door, her suitcase trailing after her like an I-have-no-place-to-go banner. But she’d also noticed the way the man’s eyes had assessed her wrinkled clothes, her hastily finger-combed hair. She probably looked like she should be checking into rehab instead of a resort.

He’d directed her to wait in one of the cowhide upholstered chairs, then had disappeared behind a large mahogany door that seemed to scream
do not effing enter
. That had been a solid ten minutes ago. Now she was beginning to wonder if he was coming back at all. Maybe she should just go. Find some roadside motel.

But the grit scraping her eyeballs every time she blinked reminded her that if she got back on the road, her car would probably end up with a tree for a hood ornament.

The door opened finally and instead of the front desk guy, Grant Waters stepped through. He was in his standard-issue Wranglers and had a plaid work shirt thrown over a wifebeater, but his dark wavy hair was clearly bed-rumpled and he had flip-flops on instead of his usual boots.

“Ms. Kennedy,” he said in an East Texas drawl that could probably inspire the panties off a nun. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Hell,” she said, getting up to meet him halfway. “I didn’t know he was going pull you out of bed. I’m so sorry.”

“Not a problem, I was in the military. I can handle an early-morning wake-up call. Especially for one of my members.” Instead of taking her hand, he placed a knuckle beneath her chin, tilted her face up to him, and evaluated her expression like a parent trying to catch a child in a lie. “Camden said he thought you could be on something, but that’s obviously not the case. What’s going on, darlin’? Who put that lost look in your eye?”

She stepped away from his touch, his all-too-knowing gaze. “I just need a place to stay. Is there any room tonight?”

He crossed his arms over his chest and peered down at her, his fingers drumming against his bicep. “We don’t actually. There’s a big collaring ceremony this weekend. Multiple couples participating. So we’re booked through the next few days.”

His answer landed like a sack of rocks on her shoulders, making her bones feel like they might snap beneath the weight of all she’d dealt with today. “Oh. I see.”

“I’m sorry, darlin’,” he said, sounding truly apologetic.

“It’s okay. I shouldn’t have assumed anyway.” She reached for the handle of her suitcase. “I’ll just drive a little farther and find a motel. No big deal.”

She attempted to lift her suitcase and barely got it off the floor. The bag seemed to be filled with bricks, even though she knew there were only a few changes of clothes in it. Grant caught sight of her struggle and reached down, placing his hand over hers on the handle. “Wait.”

She released the bag and straightened. “What’s wrong?”

He stared at her for a long moment, his gaze seeming to tunnel into her, unzipping her casing and peering inside. Instinct told her to look away, look down, look anywhere but at him, but the stare held her as captive as Andre’s handcuffs would’ve.

Finally, he broke the eye contact and hefted her suitcase with ease. “You’ll stay with me. You’re tired.”

She blinked, then his suggestion registered. Oh, shit. The Dom with a capital D commanding her to stay with him? Did that mean . . . ? “What? Oh, no, I couldn’t. I can’t—”

“You will,” he said as if he were Supreme Master Ruler of the Universe. “I’m not letting you get on the road and risk killing yourself or someone else.”

“But I can’t—”

He laid his free hand on his shoulder. “Calm down, Evan. This isn’t a sexual invitation. If it were, you would know. I have a guest room. It’s nothing fancy, but you can stay there this weekend.”

Her muscles loosened beneath his reassurance. “I don’t want to put you out.”

“You won’t be. Now come on, let’s get you to bed.” He put his arm fully around her shoulders, and she couldn’t help but sag against his side, her body’s internal battery fully depleted.

Under normal circumstances, she may have put up more of a fight. May have been more wary of sleeping at some stranger’s house. But right now, all she wanted was a bed and the oblivion of sleep. Right or wrong, she trusted Grant. On some primal level she sensed his goodness, his honest nature.

Grant led her to a golf cart parked outside the main building and helped her get seated before securing her suitcase in the back. The ride to his corner of the property was blessedly quiet. She’d expected more questions from the ever watchful owner, but apparently he wasn’t going to pry. For now. She had a feeling all bets were off in the morning.

The house they parked in front of was a modest version of the cedar-planked cabins that dotted the grounds of The Ranch. Wraparound porch. Views of the vineyards from two sides. Beautifully simple. Much smaller than she would’ve expected for a man with Grant’s kind of money.

“Let’s get you inside,” he said, climbing out and grabbing the suitcase. “Sun’s starting to rise, and I have horses to feed.”

The inside of the cabin was as understated as Grant’s wardrobe. Comfortable furniture, simple decor. Not even a family photo in sight. The only make-a-Realtor-go-wild feature was the two-story wall of windows in the living room that framed the vineyard and the horizon beyond. “Wow, that’s some view.”

“Thanks. It’s why I picked this spot.”

She let her gaze go all the way to the top of the windows where they narrowed to a peak. Not a curtain anywhere. “Sacrificing a little privacy though. Anybody working in the vineyards could totally see you if you decided to have a romantic evening on the couch or something.”

He smiled as he led her through a hallway, his large hand like a heating pad on the base of her spine. “Not an issue. I don’t bring women here.”

She straightened. “Wait, like ever?”

He opened the door on his right and set her suitcase down inside the bedroom. “I have a whole playground at my fingertips. I don’t need to bring someone into my personal space.”

“Then why are you letting me?”

“Because you needed me to.” He flipped on the light switch in the bedroom. She followed him inside. “And because you’re the sub of two very good friends of mine. They would want me to keep you safe and off the roads.”

“You can’t let them know I’m here,” she said, the words whipping out of her mouth before she could reel them back.

He walked around the bed and folded the comforter down. “Oh, and why is that?”

“I— There’s just a lot going on and I need to be away from it all to think. I don’t want anyone knowing I’m here—my fiancé, Jace, Andre, none of them. And if any reporter calls—”

He paused in turning down the bed, looked up. “Darlin’, no press would even know the number to call. As far as the rest of the world knows, we don’t exist.”

“Good,” she said, nodding. “I need to be alone.”

“Three men on your tail. Sounds like you’ve gotten yourself into quite a bind.”

She groaned. “Are you seriously being punny right now? Because if I wasn’t so tired, I would totally throw something at you for that.”

He chuckled, the baritone sound making his chest bounce. “Sorry, unintentional. Is there anything else I should know? No bodies in your trunk, right?”

“None for now. Though a few people may want
my
head on a stake by the end of the day. It’s going to come out in the media that I’ve cheated on Daniel.”

He straightened, pinned her with his stare. “But you didn’t. I talked to Daniel myself when he set up your membership.”

“Yeah, well, open relationship isn’t something that’s going to fly with the general public. If I don’t take the fall, he’ll lose his television deal.”

“I see.” Disapproval marked his face like a thundercloud rolling over the calm plains. She shivered. His poor subs must fall over themselves trying to avoid
that
look.

Even though he wasn’t her dom she found herself scrambling for some way to make it better. “It’s the only way.”

“It’s your life, darlin’. But in my opinion, any man worth his salt would never let his woman take the hit for something that was his doing. His job is to protect you from anything and anyone who may hurt you.”

Her I-am-woman-hear-me-roar gene snapped to attention. “I don’t need some guy to protect me. I’ve handled way worse than bad press.”

He walked over to her and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t get your feathers all fluffed. I have no doubt you could slay the hounds of hell if faced with them. But the question is, should you have to? And would a man who’s supposed to love you, make you?”

“You sound like Jace.”

His lips hitched at the corner. “That guy’s wiser than people give him credit for.”

Jace. Her chest ached like she’d been running for miles. “Thanks for the room.”

Grant lowered his hand and headed to the door. “Get some rest, darlin’. You have my word that I won’t tell anyone you’re here. You’re safe from it all for now.”

Grant closed the door and left her in silence.

Safe. But alone.

Seems she could never be one without the other.

Maybe it was time she accepted that.

She walked over to her suitcase and unzipped it, staring at what she’d tucked in the front flap. Daniel had handed them to her before she’d left, and she’d wanted to toss them back his way. But now the little prescription bottle beckoned her with its promise. She pulled out the antidepressants she hadn’t touched in months, rolling the bottle between her fingertips.