The Billionaire's Touch (The Sinclairs #3) (12 page)

She nodded. “Dennis and Joan were on vacation for their anniversary. He caught me red-handed.”

“He didn’t turn you in to the police,” Evan guessed, hoping he was right.

“Nope. He and Joan took me to the nearest restaurant and bought me something to eat. When they heard that I was homeless and what had happened to me, they brought me home with them to Amesport. Joan was a retired teacher, and she helped me catch up on my studies. It took me an entire summer of studying to be ready to start school here in the fall.”

“But you did it,” Evan replied, his admiration of her accomplishment clear in his voice. “How did Dennis and Joan manage the distance with foster care?”

“They lied,” Randi explained bluntly. “They claimed to be distant relatives who had guardianship. Dennis was a retired principal at the school, and Joan was a teacher. They wanted to keep me here bad enough to do what they needed to do to get me into school.” Randi’s voice cracked, and tears started to fall down her cheeks. “Two people who had been upstanding citizens all their life lied and manufactured what they needed to keep a teenage kid from the streets. They didn’t want to risk me going back into the system. They were already in their seventies at the time. None of us were sure what would happen if they told the truth and had to go through the legal system.”

Evan was guessing probably nothing would have happened since she was an older child, and hard to adopt. Most likely, the Tylers could have adopted her if they’d pushed the system. But he imagined Randi would have had to go back to foster care at some time during the process since they took her illegally and out of state. He found himself being grateful for the Tylers’ sacrifice and their lies. “How did you get their name?”

“I changed it legally once I was of age. They were the only parents I ever had, and I wanted to carry the same last name,” Randi replied adamantly.

“I would have liked to have met them,” Evan pondered, still pissed off that someone as special as the woman in his arms had grown up so rough. But he was in awe of her strength and her will to survive and thrive. How many kids like her ended up a respected teacher? Evan didn’t have statistics, but he was guessing not very damn many.

Randi sighed. “You would have liked them. They were both very sensible people, but they gave me so much love,” she answered wistfully.

“Why do you think the nightmares are back?” Evan barely got the question out, his outrage nearly making him mute at the moment.

“I think it’s because Joan is gone. She was my rock for so long that I didn’t realize how alone I’d feel without her. My foster parents gave me the education and the resources to live a better life, but I miss them so much,” Randi said, sadness creeping into her voice.

Evan knew she wasn’t without people who cared, but her loss was fueling her childhood insecurities. Although he’d never known the fear of not having a place to sleep or some food to eat, he understood that some fears were ingrained during those early years and could never completely be left behind. He was a perfect example to prove that theory.

It was no wonder she loved her food and ate like it was a religious experience. He guessed when you never knew where your next meal was coming from during your childhood, you savored every single thing you ate.

His chest tightened at the thought of Randi ever going hungry.

His gut wrenched as he thought about some filthy asshole trying to force her to perform sex acts when she was still a child.

I’ll always protect her, make her feel safe.

She had
him
now, and if he held her close enough, maybe she’d feel more secure.

Wrapping his arms tightly around her waist, he vowed to stay with her as long as she’d let him, and he’d make damn sure she was secure.

Randi might not know it right now, but as long as he drew breath into his body, she’d never be afraid, alone, or lonely ever again.

Will she let me stay once she finds out I’m her email confidant?

Not wanting to risk the chance of losing her now, Evan rationalized that he needed to wait a little longer to tell her the truth.

CHAPTER 11

“What? You don’t like cake?”

Randi looked at Evan with horror as he stared at the carrot cake on his plate like it was a venomous snake. First, he’d seemed unhappy that they were having spaghetti for dinner, mentioning it was loaded with carbs. But he’d eaten it like a man who was starving, and all of his complaints aside, Evan had managed to completely clean his plate. Now, he was eyeing the cake dubiously.

“I try to limit my sugar intake,” Evan replied indifferently.

Randi took a large bite of her own cake, closing her eyes for just a moment as the taste of the rich cream-cheese frosting hit her taste buds. As she opened her eyes again, she stared at Evan like he was speaking a different language. She’d cheated on the spaghetti, doctoring up a ready-made sauce. But she’d made the cake completely from scratch. “Are you diabetic?” She’d never met a man who was in such spectacular shape watch every single thing he put into his mouth.

“No. I was a chubby kid. I was put on a stringent diet, and I haven’t eaten much sugar since,” he grumbled hesitantly.

His parents put him on a diet with absolutely no sweets? There were ways to encourage healthy food for children, but an occasional sweet wasn’t going to make him overweight. “What did you eat?”

“Fish, lean meats, vegetables. The same things I eat now, for the most part.”

“Were you really overweight?” It was almost an impossible diet for a kid to stick with, and she couldn’t imagine being that drastic unless he had a very real problem.

Evan shrugged. “Not much. But I was getting chubby. In my father’s eyes, I was fat. I didn’t join the family for meals, and if I weighed in heavy, I didn’t eat.”

Randi’s heart broke at the longing look in his eyes as he stared at the piece of cake on the plate in front of him. He was stuck in his own fear of eating anything outside of his normal. She’d already realized he was obsessively regimented in his routine. “Evan, you obviously work out, and you don’t have an ounce of spare flesh on your body.” She could attest to
that
. “It isn’t going to kill you to live a little occasionally.”

Getting up from her place at the large dining-room table next to him, she picked up his fork and slowly speared him a large bite of the cake. “Open.”

He opened his mouth willingly, giving her the opportunity to feed him the cake. She watched as he chewed and swallowed, his eyes closed so he could savor the treat.

“Good?” she asked cautiously.

He chewed and swallowed before answering. “Fucking incredible.”

Randi knew what it was like to experience great food after being deprived of it for so long. Maybe Evan had never had to scramble for food like she had, but he had definitely been forced to give up eating anything just for pleasure.

Making him push his chair back from the table as she seated herself on his lap, Randi took a bite of the cake herself. “Joan’s recipe,” she told him after she swallowed.

She offered him another bite, sharing the piece of cake with him. His eyes were lit with blue flames; his intense gaze stayed fixed on her face as he accepted her offering without hesitation. Randi smiled at him, feeling victorious because he so obviously wanted the sweet but was too afraid to break his rigid routine.

They ate in silence for a few moments before Evan took the empty plate and utensil from her hands and carelessly tossed both onto the table.

“That was fantastic. But now I desperately have to taste
you
,” he snarled, his face contorting to a look of frenzied need.

An electric, piercing shiver ran down her spine as she felt herself hefted up into his arms as he stood. He didn’t hesitate as he took the stairs, carrying her weight like it was nothing.

She wasn’t going to pretend, not with Evan. She needed him right now just as fiercely as he needed her. Desire was growing hot in her belly, and her core was already tingling and saturated just from anticipating his touch.

“I need you,” Randi admitted shakily as he lowered her to her feet.

Evan might be opinionated on almost everything, but he also accepted her for exactly who she was, ugly past and all. He hadn’t batted an eyelash when she’d confessed that her mother had been a prostitute, and he hadn’t shied away. Gently, sweetly, he’d tried to comfort her, make her feel safe again after her nightmare, and she’d never seen one single sign that he thought any less of her after her confession.

“I know, sweetheart. I need you, too. I need to show you that you’re mine now,” he growled. “Undress for me, or I’ll end up ripping your pretty underwear to shreds.”

His possessive, dominant words ramped up her desire as nothing else possibly could. It should have been frightening, and it probably would have been if it had come from anyone other than Evan. But right now, his words were a vocal declaration of the same need that was reverberating deep inside her soul.

She wanted to be his; she wanted him to belong to her. The emotions were primal and predatory, strangely feeling as natural as breathing at the moment.

Randi usually went for the more delicate and pretty pastels in her underwear choices rather than the sultry, sexy lingerie made to actually inspire lust, but Evan didn’t seem to care. “They really aren’t all that sexy,” she answered, suddenly nervous.

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Evan, but she’d never seen the wild look in his eyes that was now bared to her. He seemed . . . completely raw, and he was breathtaking when he was like this. She watched with her fingers on the zipper of her jeans as he steadily tore at his own clothing until he stood before her completely naked.

“Oh, God. You
are
beautiful,” she whispered breathlessly, taking in every rippling muscle and what seemed like an enormous amount of bare skin, touchable skin. In complete daylight, she could see several faded scars on his shoulders and chest. “Turn around,” she demanded as she shucked off her jeans, any self-consciousness she had experienced now gone.

“I’d rather not,” Evan commented around his clenched jaw, his blue eyes flashing with anger and intense arousal.

Maybe she should have been afraid of his ferocity, but she wasn’t. She knew his anger didn’t lie with her, and he was man enough that he wasn’t going to take it out on the wrong person. Evan was self-contained and cautious. What she was seeing right now wasn’t something he showed to anyone. He was baring himself to her because he trusted her, at least a little. That knowledge spurred Randi on.

“Please,” she begged, knowing that this was something Evan had to get through himself, another hurdle he needed to jump. Unfortunately, she suspected it would be much harder than eating sweets or wearing more casual clothing when he wasn’t working.

She pulled her sweater over her head as she waited and held her breath.

He eyed her hungrily before slowly starting to turn around, and Randi released her breath in a rush.

The scars weren’t horrible; they weren’t even that noticeable at first glance. But as Randi moved closer, she traced every faded line across his back and butt, and noticed they marked the backs of his thighs as well. His heavy muscles convulsed beneath her fingers as she touched every mark.

Why? I don’t understand why a parent has to beat a child. I know his father was a horrible man, but Hope never mentioned being beaten. I assumed he was just verbally abusive and treated them all like shit.

As the eldest male Sinclair, obviously the entire focus had been on Evan, and in some of the cruelest ways to a child.

Tears started to flow down her cheeks rapidly, but she ignored her own emotions. What had Evan’s life been like as a child? He’d been barely fed, and apparently beaten so badly that the faint marks were still present years later. What kind of monster did that to a child? His father had separated Evan from the rest of the family to use as a tool for his own brutality.

“Bastard!” Randi said aloud, her voice raspy because of her tears. “If your father wasn’t already dead, I’d cut his balls off and shove them down his throat.” The more scars she found, the angrier she got. Her growing up had been tough, but not like this.

“Are you actually . . . upset for me?” Evan asked in a low, hoarse voice.

Yeah. Maybe he didn’t know what it was like for someone to be outraged at what had happened to him, but she was absolutely standing up for the child he’d once been. “Yes.”

“It was a long time ago,” he replied calmly, strangely sounding like
he
wanted to comfort
her
.

Randi dropped to her knees and discovered every scar on his thighs and calves. “It doesn’t matter. He was a damn monster. Did he do this to all of the kids?”

“No. Not to the same extent. But the mental abuse he heaped on everyone was worse than the physical.”

Randi heard the hesitation in his voice as he answered, making her suspicious. “You did that on purpose. You let him beat the shit out of you so he didn’t do it to the other kids.” She knew she was right. Evan was a dedicated protector. He wouldn’t have done anything else.

“I can’t deny that it occurred to me that if I was his target of displeasure, he’d leave the others alone,” he agreed reluctantly.

Of course it did. “And did it work?”

“For the most part. He was an asshole, and after I left home for college, he started picking on Grady more than he ever did before. I noticed it when I was home for Christmas, and I was going to have a discussion with him, but then he died.”

She sensed relief in his tone, knowing that Evan had probably planned on more than just
discussing
his father’s treatment of his younger brother. It would have been nice if Evan had gotten the opportunity to beat the crap out of his father, but it was better that the asshole had died. A physical confrontation between Evan and his father would have been difficult for the entire family.

“It’s over now, Evan.” She didn’t want him to relive any of those memories again. “You’re strong and gorgeous.” Randi cupped his tight ass and brought her mouth to some of the faint lines at his lower back.

“Don’t!” Evan protested, turning around and glaring down at her. “Don’t feel sorry for me.”

“I don’t,” she told him honestly, looking up into his intense glare. “I just . . . care.” Evan would hate pity from anyone, which was probably why he’d never shared his past.

The expression on his face softened slightly. “Okay, then,” he finally answered, sounding somewhat perplexed.

She brought her mouth to his ripped abs, using her tongue to trace the delineated muscles there.

The taut flesh of his stomach became impossibly harder as it flexed under her touch. Leaning back, she traced the sexy, dark, happy trail that led to one enormously rigid cock.

It’s time.

This was a moment she couldn’t let pass to put to rest some of the ghosts of her past, and show Evan that he was the most desirable man she’d ever met.

Slowly, she opened her mouth, flicking the bead of moisture off the mushroomed head of his member, savoring the taste of Evan.

It wasn’t scary.

It wasn’t repugnant.

It was divine.

All thoughts of her traumatic childhood experience fled as she experienced the forceful essence of Evan Sinclair. There was no mistaking the feel of him, the taste of him. Opening her mouth, she slid her tongue along the underside of his enormous cock, and wrapped her right hand around the base. He felt like hard steel covered in a silky softness that was impossible not to touch.

“Randi,” Evan groaned. “Don’t. You don’t like it.”

Her heart clenched as she heard his tortured words, his willingness to give up something that obviously felt so good, because of her fear. It elevated her own arousal to a level she’d never experienced before. Letting him pop out of her mouth momentarily, she answered, looking him directly in the eyes. “Maybe with you I do. Let me, Evan. It’s pretty hot.”

She watched him as her mouth enveloped him again, deeper this time. His head fell back and he closed his eyes in what appeared to be carnal bliss.

“You’re killing me,” he rasped.

Randi gained confidence quickly at a skill with which she had very little experience. Following Evan’s vocal cues, she used her hand and mouth to taste him, mimic the act of sex by applying suction and using her tongue on the sensitive head of his cock.

His breathing was rough and ragged as she gently cupped his balls with one hand and splayed the other on his rock-hard ass to keep him close. The erotic, low, animalistic sounds escaping his mouth ravaged her senses and spoke to a portion of her soul that felt connected to him and the pain of his past.

She didn’t flinch when he speared his hands through her hair and guided her mouth where he wanted it, and at the pace he seemed to need.

“I. Can’t. Stop. It.” His words sounded desperate and husky with need.

Don’t stop it, Evan. For once in your life, let go.

Randi closed her eyes and savored the sensual connection she had with Evan at that moment, knowing he was about to find release.

“Fuck, baby! I’m going to come,” Evan warned her.

Yes. Yes. Yes.