Seduced in Secret
Author: Shiloh Walker
Date: 2003-08-02 04:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Erotica; Romance; Contemporary Romance; Contemporary; Bdsm; Novella; Adult; Erotic Romance
Description: Best laid plans…are meant to be broken. Life laid out, Tessa had everything set. Engaged to marry the perfect man, a rich, great-looking doctor, she was content with her life, or so she thought. Then the gift arrived. Delivered to her office on Valentine’s Day, it was filled with handcuffs, sexy little toys and a suggestive little card. It wasn’t from her fiancé, either. When the emails and the phone started coming, she should have been able to brush them off, except the man said something that left her uneasy…and not because he scared her, but because he was right. Your fiancé will never make
Publisher: Shiloh Walker, Inc
Rights: All rights reserved

Anybody ever tell you that you talk too much?

Daily.

Despite her frustration, she laughed.

When are we going to talk? As in, really talk?

Are you sure you’re ready to?

YES!

Her entire body lurched at the thought of it and she wanted to dance at the thought, laugh at the thought, shiver at the thought…burn.

Holding her breath, she waged a mental war and then told herself, “It’s now or never.”

You knew it wasn’t right for me. I don’t know how we know each other, but we do. I can feel it. So I broke it off. It’s done. Now I want to know what’s next. When do I get to meet you?

For a long time, there was no answer.

Then…

I dream about slipping into your room.

You’re asleep. You don’t even know I’m there.

Then I climb into bed with you and bring you awake with my mouth, with my hands, with my body. By the time you really wake up, I’m already fucking you, Tess.

Tessa had to squeeze her thighs together.

Tipping her head back, she stared up at the ceiling and waited until her head cleared before she tried to formulate an answer.

Don’t you think that will go over better if we meet? Talk?

Seduced in Secret

Formerly Whipped Cream & Handcuffs

By Shiloh Walker

Seduction in Secret

Copyright 2004 Shiloh Walker

Revised, Reissued Copyright 2015

Don’t Walk Away

Initially Published in the Mammoth Book of Special Ops Romance

Copyright 2010 Shiloh Walker

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people.

Please note that if you purchased this from an auction site or blog, it’s stolen property. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. Your support is what makes it possible for authors to continue to provide the stories you enjoy.

Contents

Author’s Note

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Don’t Walk Away

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

About the Author

Author’s Note:

This book was previously released as a short story with Ellora’s Cave, with the title Whipped Cream & Handcuffs. While the story came off as kinky and fun when I wrote it, looking back, years later, I had some issues. Writers grow, and while the story was purely fantasy, the heroine wasn’t the strong sort of character I tend to write these days and the hero…well, yeah. He needed work, too.

So this story has pretty much been completely rewritten, thus the new title.

The characters, themselves, at the core, aren’t much different, but the story has evolved.

I hope you like it.

Chapter One

There was another letter, sitting there on her desk. Her heart skipped a beat and her hands went damp. Biting her lip, she looked around and then felt silly for doing it.

It was her office, after all. She had letters and notes and envelopes left for her all the time.

Of course, that was part of the problem.

These letters showed up at her office. They showed up at home. They showed up tucked under the windshield wiper of her car and under the welcome mat at her house and everywhere else. She’d done the smart thing and told her older brother, the cop, about it. She’d told her neighbor, Caleb, about it. Her brother the cop had done a report. Caleb had agreed to watch her house.

Still the letters came.

Still she was excited when she saw them.

How could she not be?

The letters were everything her life…wasn’t.

Passionate and vital.

Loving and warm.

Swallowing, she reached out and traced a finger down the edge of the envelope, and then chanced another look around.

If she were smart, she’d call her brother.

If she were smart, she’d notify security when she left so they could walk her out.

But she just looked around and then slid into the orthopedic chair she’d ordered a few months back and sat there, staring at the envelope.

Tessa had spent her entire life being smart.

And she was miserable.

The office was quiet.

Nobody but her ever came in this early. Apprehension twined through her as she reached out a finger and traced the envelope once more, staring at it.

What secrets lay inside?

What would it be? A poem? Another short story that would leave her panting and wishing she had waited until she was home?

She chanced another look at the clock and then grabbed the envelope, tearing it open so desperately, she ended up tearing the edge of the paper tucked inside. It was a small tear, but she bit her lip when she noticed and forced herself to slow down.

The folded slip of paper held several answers and none at all.

Yes. She should have waited.

And no. It wouldn’t have mattered if she hadn’t.

She’d never think about work now, but she wouldn’t have gained much if she’d just waited until she’d gotten home, either.

The simple, folded sheet of paper read simply: Soon.

He meant it.

Whoever it was that called her late at night—whoever it was that left these dirty little stories, or romantic poems—really meant it. She’d been asking him, over and over again. When can we meet?

And here was her answer.

Both terror and excitement mingled inside and she couldn’t decide if she wanted to laugh or puke.

Tessa placed the piece of paper face down on her desk and spun away, bracing her elbows on her knees and staring off into nothingness.

He wanted to meet her.

Her.

After four months, he wanted to meet.

“Oh, shit,” she whispered, surging upright.

The office she held as the manager of a small pediatrics group wasn’t anything extravagant, but it had more than enough room for her to pace. Just then, she used up all the available room, going back and forth as she swiped a nervous hand through her hair, toyed with the letter, and fussed with the button on the bottom of her cardigan.

“Tessa!”

She came up short at the sight of Jeanie Margrave, standing in the door to her office. Jeanie handled all the billing—and in short, Tessa’s sanity. Forcing herself to smile and at least act sane, she focused on Jeanie’s face. “Good morning!”

“Hey…you okay there?” Jeanie studied Tessa with a puzzled expression.

“Oh, fine. Distracted.” Tessa managed a weak laugh and shrugged, wrapping her cardigan more firmly around herself as she met the other woman’s eyes. “Did you need something?”

“Yes.” Jeanie looked like she was debating something, and then finally sighed and hefted up a box. It jingled as she plopped it down on Tessa’s desk. “I was at the post office this morning. This was part of the deliveries I picked up.”

Tessa eyed it narrowly and then, almost grateful for the distraction, picked up the flap that had already been slit open.

Then she lowered it and turned to Jeanie. “What’s this?”

Jeanie licked her lips and then calmly said, “Payment of a bill.”

“Excuse me?”

Jeanie held out a folded, if somewhat mangled, sheet of paper. “This was in there.”

Dear thieving scum

If you insist on robbing honest, hard-working people, then you can just take the very last pennies I have in my pockets. Here’s what I owe for my kid’s well-being. To the fucking dime.

“Well.” Tessa folded the letter and then placed it on top of the coins. She debated on a course of action. The family was set to be sent to collections—between their three kids, they owed almost a thousand dollars, and she doubted she was looking at a thousand dollars in quarters and dimes there.

Humming under her breath, she made a decision. “I’ll take the coins to the bank and have them counted. Once we know what the balance is, I’ll contact the family. Don’t update the patient status until then. Emergency visits only.”

Once she was alone—along with who knew how much in coinage—she went back to pondering her letter.

Soon.

Just what was soon?

If you’d asked her, soon would have been after the arrival of the first basket, delivered on Valentine’s Day. A pair of fuzzy handcuffs. A feather. Massage oil. Whipped cream…and a magnet.

It read:

You.

Me.

Handcuffs.

Whipped Cream.

Any questions?

Since then, only the stiff ivory envelopes made of a heavy bond paper had showed up. The writing was all handwritten and looked familiar, but she couldn’t place it. Sweeping, rather elegant looking, especially for a man.

A month after the first letter, the phone calls had begun.

She couldn’t quite decide if it was just coincidence or irony all of this had started a month after her fiancé had proposed. She glanced down at the ring on her left hand, the diamond flashing at her mockingly.

The first phone call had been simple. He’d just said quietly, “He isn’t right for you, Tessa. He’ll never make you happy.”

“Who this is?” she’d asked.

There had been a long silence and she’d thought maybe he’d hung up.

But finally, he had answered, his voice gruff, low—he never spoke in a regular voice—and he said, “Somebody who would do anything just to see you happy.”

The crazy thing was, she had a bad feeling her mystery man was right. Tyson was…ideal. He was the ideal boyfriend. He had the ideal job and he lived in the ideal neighborhood. He said all the right things and he’d proposed after the right period of time. They’d wait exactly one year after the proposal and he already had the church picked out—she hadn’t had much say in it.

It wasn’t like she felt like she was left out of these discussions, he just…did things.

And she was left on the sidelines.

She was tired of it.

Staring at the letter, she made a decision.

∞

The cool eyed blonde sitting across from her started to tap his fingers steadily on the white tablecloth. He lifted his water glass and sipped from it before setting it back down and staring her like she was a lab specimen under a microscope.

He was angry.

She had rarely seen Tyson James angry, but the tic throbbing in his cheek was a pretty good giveaway.

“This has to do with those insane little letters,” he said finally. Her ring lay between them where she’d put it two minutes ago. He hadn’t so much as looked at it.

“No,” she said. “It has to do with—”

“Have you called the police yet?”

She looked away.

She’d told him about the gift that had come on Valentine’s Day. She hadn’t had much choice, since he’d picked her up for dinner. He’d had roses delivered. They had been stunning and if she could have hidden the other gift, she would have been happy to, but when he came into the office, one of the women who worked upfront had teasingly said, “Way to make all the other men look bad, Dr. James. Sending not one but two gifts?”

So she’d been forced to explain.

“Why haven’t you called the police, Tessa?” he asked, his voice low, yet somehow managing to carry across the table to her ears.

He had a wonderful speaking voice, could command the attention of an entire lecture hall.

He could also make her feel terribly stupid.

Red crept up her cheeks as he said, “You have somebody stalking you, leaving you threatening presents and notes, calling you at home, and you haven’t called the police. What else does he have to do before you realize he’s dangerous?”

“He’s not dangerous.” Tessa pulled the napkin from her lap and folded it, laid it on the table. It was a good thing they hadn’t ordered yet. She wasn’t going to be able to sit through this meal.

Tyson scoffed. “Tessa…don’t be naïve.”

“Naïve.” She swallowed while tears tried to burn her eyes. “It’s naïve to think that some man out there loves me as passionately as he seems to?”

“You don’t even know him.” Tyson flicked a dismissive hand. “You’re being foolish.”

He picked up the ring. “This is love, Tessa. Not dirty little notes and illicit phone calls. He’s flirting with another man’s fiancée. That isn’t love.”

Tessa held out her hand.

Tyson, victory glinting in his eyes, placed the ring back in her hand.

She held it up. “This is a ring,” she said. “It’s a symbol. It can be a symbol of a lot of things. Love…” She paused. “Or ownership. You treat me like a toy. Or a pet. No, Tessa…not that dress. No, Tessa…those colors don’t flatter you. No, Tessa…beach weddings are so passé. You don’t love me, Tyson. You think I’m a malleable, pretty little thing to have on your arm. But I’m done.”

She placed the ring down and rose.

“Tessa.”

She looked down at Tyson. His face had flushed red with anger now.

Slowly, he stood and moved so that they stood eye to eye.

“Be very certain you understand what you’re doing, darling,” he said softly.

To her shock, she found herself smiling. “Tyson, darling, for the first time in a very long time, I am.” She hesitated for a moment and then said, “I hope you can be happy one day.”

Then she turned and walked away, feeling like she’d left a thousand pound weight behind her.

Chapter Two

The rest of the day dragged on.

Four hours. She thought entire lifetimes passed between each slow tick of the clock that hung in her office.

At quarter ‘til four, Jeanie poked her head in.

“Your coin-lover is on the phone.”

Tessa hoped against hope. “Please say the child has a high fever…something we can easily call an emergency, right?”

“No.” Jeanie made a face. “One kid has had a cough, no fever for two days. Her other son has some allergy issues. She won’t let us take a note for the doctor and insists on being seen.” She bit her lip. “How much money did she send in?”

“Eighty-four dollars. In coins.” Tessa grimaced. “It cost her almost thirty to send it. It doesn’t even add up to ten percent of what she owes the office. I’ll handle the call. But we’re not seeing them. Neither of those are emergencies. I’ll talk to the doctors before we leave.”

She spent twenty minutes on the phone, being called everything from a bitch to a communist to a baby-killer and she by damn well better have a lawyer ready because the whole damn practice would be sued.

“Ma’am, if you’re willing to make a payment—” She glanced at what was owed and grimaced. “Of two hundred and twenty dollars on Sam’s account and one-ninety on Joey’s, then I’d be happy to set up an appointment for tomorrow morning. We don’t have any appointments left for this afternoon.” She checked the computer—the woman had ranted at her so long, the doctors had just logged off for the afternoon. “The doctors are no longer in the facility so nobody is available to see you.”

“I’d bet they’d see me if I wasn’t some poor single mom!” The irate mother had worked herself up into a frenzy now.

In the background, Tessa could hear the kids crying.

“Ma’am, the doctors are done for the day. We’ve tried to work with you on payments. You wasted thirty dollars in postage simply to mail in coins. If you’d cashed the coins in, that would have been an extra—”

“You uptight cunt. Don’t tell me how to pay my damn bills. Put my kids on the schedule for tomorrow!”

“That’s enough. I’m not tolerating the abuse.” Tessa documented the phone call, rolling her eyes as the woman continued to rant. “We gave you sixty days to bring your account into better standing. I’m sorry this hasn’t been acceptable for you.”

She hung up the phone and looked up at Jeanie. “Turn the phones over. I’m begging you. And warn the service they may…no. Just turn over the phones and get the on-call manager on the phone.” She shot the calendar a look. She’d have to notify the doctor on call, too. She noted the mother’s name.

The mom would be making numerous phone calls over the weekend. Tessa was sure of it.

“She hates you,” Jeanie offered helpfully a little while later.

“I noticed.” Tessa was still documenting the call. Everything had to be documented.

“Notify the docs?”

“Yes.” Tessa rubbed her neck. “They’re being dismissed. Dr. Harvey said he didn’t care what the balances were at this point. They could pay in full on Monday in gold doubloons and they’d see be dismissed. They’ve been warned about the abusive behavior before—by him.”

Jeanie grimaced. “Maybe you should let him call her and tell her.”

“Sure. I’ll pass along that message.” She rolled her eyes. The notification would be done via official, USPS mail, as was protocol, but it was an amusing image.

Dr. Jerome Harvey stood six foot seven and Tessa wouldn’t be surprised if the earth trembled under his big boots. His voice was smooth and mellow and deep, matching his dark brown eyes. More than a few of the office staff had entertained a crush on him at one point or time. Personally, he was a little too intimidating for Tessa, although she’d seen him melt while holding a newborn baby girl. And every time his wife came in to see him.

The big black man was married to a woman just a couple inches taller than Tessa’s five foot three and Amelia’s voice was a match for Jerome’s.

At an office picnic, she’d seen the two of them get into an argument—it had sent birds screeching from the trees. Five minutes later, they’d been wrapped around each other.

The idea of him handling the unhappy parent Tessa had dealt with was more than a little amusing—and appealing—but that was Tessa’s job.

Fortunately, though, one she wouldn’t have to deal with until next week.

“Go on, you all,” she said. “Get out of here.”

She had a few more phone calls to take care of then she was going to do the same.

Maybe, if she were lucky, her mystery man would call her tonight.

∞

As she drove into her drive, she saw Caleb in the yard next to hers, his lean body tanned, gleaming lightly with sweat. His gloved hands gripped a tree as he carefully eased it into a hole in the ground.

Tessa told herself she didn’t need to feel guilty as she stood there and studied his muscled back. His body was far from perfect. At least, society’s idea of perfect. He was lean and hard with muscle, but there were scars, a number of them. The worst one was low on his back, just left his spine, disappearing below the waistband of his low-slung khaki colored work shorts. The light coat of perspiration made him look that much more tantalizing and she swallowed, told herself to look away.

But then her eyes drifted back and she let herself stare.

After all, she’d given the ring back.

Although, okay, it was still kind of odd to be ogling her best friend.

Caleb had been her best friend for years. His grandmother had lived right across the street from the house where Tessa that had lived all her life. She’d bought the house from her parents when they decided to move to Florida. Caleb’s father had died when he was twelve and both Caleb and his mother had moved in with his grandmother, leaving the two of them to spend the rest of their childhood growing up together. They’d gone to school together since kindergarten, but while she’d gone to college, he’d joined the Navy.

Contact had been sporadic then.

Caleb had always been focused on one thing—becoming a SEAL, just like his father.

He’d done it, too.

That life had a left a mark on him, although she didn’t see how it couldn’t.

His laughing face had become more solemn and his eyes rarely smiled. Infrequent visits home, sporadic letters, none of that changed their friendship. He’d come home, they’d visit and laugh and talk and it was like the time since they’d last seen each other faded away.

But soon enough, he was gone again and she’d be left to wonder if that time would be the last time. The last time she’d see his slow, almost reluctant smiles, or the last time she’d tease a laugh from him, or the last time they’d sit outside talking until the moon rode high in the sky.

And then he took a bullet in the thigh.

He’d been working an op—he wouldn’t tell her what or where, so she didn’t bother asking. He’d just sent her an email out of the blue one day. It was short, simple and to the point.

Dear Tess,

Please don’t worry, but I’m in the hospital. You made me promise to write you if it ever happened, so I’m keeping my promise. I took a bullet in my back. Don’t panic. I’ll be fine. But it looks like I’m getting an early discharge. Maybe you can pick me up from the airport when they finally spring me. I’ll call you.

Months passed before the call came and when it did, she was there to pick him up from the airport. His mother had long since left and moved. But to Caleb, home was the house across the street that sat empty…like it was waiting for hm.

He’d limped out of the airport, using a cane to help him walk and she’d looked at him and known.

He’d told her not to worry, but she had and she knew she’d been right.

He’d almost died.

He’d never tell her and she wouldn’t ask, but she’d almost lost her best friend.

It had been close to two years since then, and he’d been working on rebuilding his strength and going to school.

After a moment, he drove the shovel into the ground and called out, “You going to keep staring at me or come over here and talk to me?”

Heat flushed her face, but she managed to respond levelly. “Just making sure you don’t overdo it over there, old man. You finally got to getting around without that cane after all.”

He slid her a glittering look, a half smile curving his mouth up.

“You come over here and say that to my face, sweetheart. Calling me an old man?”

“Well…if the shoe fits.” She shrugged and made a face at him. Then she darted inside.

As good as it might feel to unload on Caleb, it was a two-edged sword. She could tell him anything. But if she did, he’d see far more than she wanted him to know. Because he saw everything.

She wasn’t quite sure she was up to that today.

∞

When the door shut behind her, Caleb braced his wrists over the top of the shovel and tipped his head, staring up at the sky.

Tessa was good at neatly placing him in her organized little world. He was in the space she’d set aside for friend and as far as she was concerned, that was the only space he’d ever occupy.

He had no problem proving her wrong, but there were days when he thought it just might take a battering ram to make her see it.

It hadn’t been enough that he’d asked her to the prom.

Hadn’t been enough that he’d written her every week while he was gone in the Navy.

With a smirk on his face, he lifted up the shovel and caught some dirt, dumping it back in around the base of the tree he was planting. His grandmother had always wanted a dogwood right in this spot. He hadn’t been able to plant it for her while she was alive, but he always figured, better late than never, right?

Of course, that theory wasn’t always a good one. It definitely wasn’t proving to be a good one when it came to Tessa.

Tessa.

Brooding, he slid a look toward her house and then grabbed the shovel, went back to shoveling dirt back into the hole.

Better late than never.

Yeah.

Right.

His mother hadn’t understood why he’d insisted on keeping the house after Gran had died. She’d remarried just a few years ago, moved to South Carolina, happy—really happy—for the first time since Dad had died. She wanted the same thing for Caleb. What she didn’t understand was that Caleb’s happiness was here, living in the cottage-style house across from Gran’s old Cape Cod.

It had always been Tessa for him.

He’d come back to find her involved with some stiff-necked doctor who couldn’t appreciate that the sky was blue, much less the woman he had in Tessa.

Ol’ Tyson, the idiot couldn’t appreciate the sweetness of her, or the sharp attitude that slid out on occasion. He couldn’t appreciate the wry sense of humor or the loyalty or the brains or the determination.

Caleb could. And he had, for what seemed like all his life.

Maybe if he’d told her that before he’d left for the Navy, things would be different.

Still brooding over it, he went to his knees and tamped down the earth. His back twinged and his left knee stiffened up, but he ignored it, pushing through the lingering, familiar pain as he scooped, patted, pressed.

He moved on to the next tree and continued to work through the heat of the evening, his eyes adjusting easily to the fading light, his muscles warmed, body finding a rhythm. Sometimes he wondered why he’d elected to go to law school at all.

He was happiest outside.

A bottle appeared in his line of sight.

He smiled and dragged a forearm over his brow. “Haven’t you heard you’re not supposed to drink and plant?”

Tessa chuckled. “I think you’ve planted enough.”

“Well, maybe.” He looked up and studied the yard. “Maybe. For now.”

The four trees he’d bought were down, along with about half a dozen flowers and a couple of shrubs.

“Knock off already and sit down, have a beer with me.”

He rose, tipped back the bottle, and drained half of it in a series of short, thirsty pulls. Then, after giving Tessa the bottle to hold, he stripped off his dirty gloves and tossed them into a heap near the rest of the gear he used in the yard.

“Miss Betty would have loved this,” Tessa said softly.

“Yeah.” He ignored the ache in his throat as he held out his hand and took his beer back.

She held up her bottle and they clinked the neck. He saw hers and grimaced. “I thought we were having a beer together, Tess. That shit you drink isn’t beer.”

“No.” She smiled at him and took a dainty sip of her cider. “It’s much, much better. I don’t know how you can stomach that crap you drink. Even the smell is repulsive.”

“Puts hair on your chest.” He winked at her. It was an old, familiar argument.

She glanced at his bare chest. Save for a scattering of hair that started at his navel and ran down, Caleb couldn’t really boast a lot of chest hair. “Clearly, it’s slow to work.”

He chuckled and started up the cobblestone sidewalk.

She followed him and they settled on the porch, side by side. She’d changed out of her pretty little pink suit into a pair of capris—pink again—and a white T-shirt that read Automatic doors make me feel like a Jedi. He’d brought her the shirt from Seattle when he’d had a weekend’s leave.

She probably had two or three hundred odd little gifts laying around her house from places he’d visited over the years.

Every single one had been a silent I love you.

She hadn’t seen the message.

But Caleb was patient, always had been. She’d been the one to sneak into Christmas presents early, while he would take his time with each and every one come the big day. He understood the value of taking his time and he was going to wait.

She lifted her bottle to her lips, took a slow, lingering drink and he looked down, as he always did, to stare at the ring.

But it wasn’t there.

He grabbed her hand.

“Hey!”

Cider splashed on both their hands as he unbalanced the bottle. He barely noticed.

“Damn it, Caleb!”

“Your ring.”

She stopped trying to pull her wrist away and an odd, strange silence fell around them.

Slowly, he looked up.

Tessa was looking off into the west. He’d worked so late into the evening, the sun was starting to set. It painted her skin with the softest of golds and the colors of the sky reflected in her eyes.

She was so damn beautiful it hurt to look at her.

She remained silent and he had to fight not to do anything.

Patience.

“I gave it back,” she said, her voice rough.

She tried to tug her hand away, but his grip instinctively tightened.

“You gave it back.”

Finally, she looked at him and managed a weak laugh. She shrugged and this time, when she pulled away, he let go. He didn’t have much choice because if he kept touching her now, he’d do something stupid.

“Yeah.” She lifted the bottle, but put it down without taking a single drink. Then, with shaking hands, she shoved her hair back. “I gave it back. You kept telling me it wasn’t right, Caleb. You were right. But when aren’t you?”

She shoved upright and paced away, folding her arms around her middle.

He wanted to beat his chest, wanted to grab her.

But she looked fragile and shaken.

He opened his mouth, searching for something to say. He’d been waiting for this. Hoping for it. Planning for it. Planning for it ever since he sent her that damn basket. Yeah, he’d been planning. He was the one who knew Tessa, understood her, loved her. He knew things about her that would probably surprise the hell out of her, had learned things that drove him crazy, and waiting for her was killing him.

If he’d had any sense at all, he would have just told her the day Tyson had proposed and fuck being the good guy.

But he’d waited. Because he was used to doing the right thing and the guy had proposed and she’d said yes. It had thrown him for a loop and Caleb hadn’t known what to do.

Sending her the basket had been equal parts desperation and dismay. She’d agreed to marry a man she didn’t really love—and Caleb knew she didn’t love Tyson. She was going to marry a man who’d never make her happy.

He’d never tease her. Never play with her. Never make her burn up inside the way Caleb knew he could.

She needed to know that.

So he’d started a half-ass plan to make her realize it.

The basket, phone calls, letters.

It was a case of obsession, plain and simple, and he knew it. He could get his ass locked up and if he was caught, he’d never practice law. Granted, it wasn’t likely he would be caught—he’d broken in the small, private practice where she worked as a manager of a pediatrician’s office and it was child’s play compared to all the other places he’d broken into.

He called her, late at night, using technology or just plain old subterfuge to disguise his voice. Again, child’s play.

The hard thing was waiting…and lying to her.

Because that was what he was doing and he knew it.

Waiting was the hard part.

The waiting was driving him insane. But now the ring was gone.

Mouth dry, he went to take another swig from his bottle only to find it empty.

Blankly, he stared at the bottle.

“Back in a minute,” he said, shaking his head.

He stood up but on his way inside, she got up and followed him.

He mutely held the door open and she followed.

On the way into the kitchen, he asked, “So what happened?”

“I just realized you were right—you told me a dozen times I didn’t love him. Lately, I’ve been thinking the same thing and…” She stopped and looked away, a blush settling over her cheeks.

He studied her for a minute, running his tongue across his teeth.

Then he headed into the kitchen. He rummaged through it and came out with a bottle of beer. Twisting off the cap, he sent it spinning through the air, hitting the trashcan dead center. Slowly, he looked back at her.

She had her arms wrapped around her middle.

And she was still blushing.

“Is it because you figured it out?” he asked, dread knotting inside him. “Or because your secret admirer got inside your head?”

What’s it matter?

Tessa slid him an odd look, clearly puzzled. “You know, you’ve been on me for months to wisen up over Tyson. Now I have.” She made a show of scratching her head. “But unless I’m imagining things, it almost sounds like you’re irritated.”

Now, head cocked, she lifted her cider to her lips and took a drink, staring at him, a dare in her eyes.

“What gives?” she asked after she lowered her bottle.

Blowing out a breath, Caleb stood there. He couldn’t answer her. Not for the life of him.

∞

Tessa had left.

Alone in the quiet of his house, he locked himself in his bathroom, taking another beer with him. He was hot and tired; the muscles in his leg screamed and his back on fire from the exertion. They hadn’t bothered him earlier, but he knew the kind of tricks the mind could play on a guy. Now that he wasn’t distracted by Tessa, now that he was alone, now that he was brooding, the physical pain was going to creep up on him.

He’d spent nine months renovating the house and getting it the way he wanted, and the bulk of that had been focused on the kitchen, the bedroom and the master bath. The sunken tub had provided untold relief for his messed up back and the heat from the shower jets soothed the muscles he continued to abuse.

Now, with his shoulders braced against the wall, he closed his eyes and let the water beat down around him as he thought about Tessa.

She’d given the ring back.

She had seemed…fine.

Almost happy, really.

No strain in her eyes and no tension lingering to stiffen her shoulders.

Happy, her soft mouth smiling…

Her mouth.

Caleb groaned and tipped his bottle back, taking another deep drink. He didn’t need to think about her mouth.

Although how could he not?

Absently, he put his beer down on the built-in shelf.

His cock pulsed and he closed his hand around it, his thoughts still centered on Tessa and her mouth. Her smile. Fisting his hand around his penis, he drew it up, then down. His cock jerked demandingly, his balls drawing up.

Here he was again, about to jack off again, while he held a picture of her in his mind. It was familiar territory, something he’d been doing since he was…hell. He couldn’t even remember how old he’d been the first time he fantasized about the pretty blonde across the street. Too young. But old enough to know she was the one he wanted. Pumping his hand up and down, the engorged head of his cock bobbed in time with his movements; he pictured her spread out on his bed.

Naked.

Her hands tied.

Tessa would like that.

It was beyond fucked up that he knew that, but he did and the knowledge tormented him.

He knew way too much about her reading material, and way too much about the things she fantasized about. All the things he wanted to do with her, she was already dreaming of having somebody do them.

He’d fist his hands around the rope stretching between her bound wrists, stare down in her wide, hungry eyes, and come inside her.

She’d moan.

She’d shudder and wrap her legs around him.

“Soon,” he muttered and then he shuddered as he started to come, his cock jerking. The shower washed the semen away and he stared through the spray of water.

Chapter Three

You haven’t called.

No.

I got your letter.

I know.

Cellphone in hand, Tessa chewed on her lip and read the message that popped up in her Facebook Messenger box, and then went back to staring at the image that represented her secret admirer.

She didn’t know who he was.

The name on his account wasn’t a name.

It read simply SL15 as his name, and the longer version was SLFifteen.

Not much of a clue there.

Rubbing at her lip, she debated and then sent another message.

I gave the ring back.

I know.

She could have screamed.

Anybody ever tell you that you talk too much?

Daily.

Despite her frustration, she laughed.

When are we going to talk? As in, really talk?

Are you sure you’re ready to?

YES!

Her entire body lurched at the thought of it and she wanted to dance at the thought, laugh at the thought, shiver at the thought…burn.

Holding her breath, she waged a mental war and then told herself, “It’s now or never.”

You knew it wasn’t right for me. I don’t know how we know each other, but we do. I can feel it. So I broke it off. It’s done. Now I want to know what’s next. When do I get to meet you?

For a long time, there was no answer.

Then…

I dream about slipping into your room.

You’re asleep. You don’t even know I’m there.

Then I climb into bed with you and bring you awake with my mouth, with my hands, with my body. By the time you really wake up, I’m already fucking you, Tess.

Tessa had to squeeze her thighs together.

Tipping her head back, she stared up at the ceiling and waited until her head cleared before she tried to formulate an answer.

Don’t you think that will go over better if we meet? Talk?

We have met. We have talked. You see right through me. But you won’t see right through me when I’m inside you. On top of you.

She blew out a breath. Need was a beast inside her, and she wanted to ask him where on earth he wanted to meet.

Anywhere. Any time.

Then let’s meet, SL.

∞

Let’s meet.

Simple words.

Caleb drove a fist into the heavy bag he’d hung in his garage, a snarl on his lips.

Simple words.

Simple, simple, simple words and here he was, furious over them.

She wanted to meet some anonymous bastard for…for what? He didn’t know and the bitch of it all, the man wasn’t anonymous, it was him and he was furious—with himself.

First, he hated Tyson with a passion and now he found himself jealous of himself.

“You’ve lost your mind.”

He continued to pound on the bag for another forty minutes, right up until his internal clock went off and told himself he needed to get out of there, or he’d be late for his classes that afternoon. Six more months and he’d be done with school. Then…then what?

Because he wasn’t ready to go down that rabbit hole, he turned away from the bag and headed inside.

A quick shower, a meal that consisted of an apple and three hard-boiled eggs, and he was out the door, speeding through the mess that was construction traffic. The entire way, he brooded over the mess he’d inadvertently gotten himself into.

What was he doing?

He didn’t know.

He really didn’t know.

His phone rang and he answered it automatically, wishing he hadn’t after his brain processed who it was.

Tessa.

He wasn’t ready to talk to her. Not yet. Not now.

“I think we’re going to meet. I mean, like a date.”

Caleb had always been quick on his feet so he fired back a response even as his brain was shying away from what he’d committed to. “Meet? Like a date? About fucking time, Tessa. I’ve been trying to get you to go out with me ever since you told me no when I asked you to go to the prom with me.”

“Whatever. It’s not like you really wanted me to go with you anyway, Caleb.” Tessa sniffed. “You were just trying to get Missy Tanner jealous and it worked.”

No. I wasn’t. I asked Missy after you said no, to get you jealous…and it didn’t work.

“I’ll have you know that you broke my heart, Tess.” He kept his voice light, although he didn’t see what it mattered. She’d never believe she really had broken his heart—that day and every other time since then. “About fifty times now.”

“Whatever.”

“Cruel woman.” He sighed mournfully, cut into a gap in traffic, and hit the downtown exit, heading for the college campus. Parking was a bitch—always was here, but the only option was to live close to the college and that wasn’t happening. “Okay, if you’re not calling to ask me out, then why are you calling?”

“You’re in a weird mood, Caleb,” Tessa said. “The guy. Remember the guy?”

He grimaced. “Yeah. I remember the guy. FYI, I’ve got a class in forty and I’m in the labyrinth—a.k.a. the endless hunt for a parking space. This can’t be an hour long explanation, sugar.”

“Then quit being a dolt,” she said. “We’re going to meet. A date. Or…well. Ahem.”

His mental alarm started to blare. “What’s…” he echoed her throat clearing. “…mean?”

She didn’t answer and he did a quick backtrack through their chat from a couple hours ago.

Okay, he had planned on them meeting. Someplace public.

A date.

So he could…well. Yeah.

He hadn’t thought that far ahead yet.

“Tessa,” he said slowly. A car pulled out and he shot into the parking space, narrowly missing a truck that tried to steal it. When the guy flipped him and shoved his head out to start yelling at him, Caleb turned his head and stared him down. After about fifteen seconds of a silent stare down, the guy flipped him the bird again and drove off.

Tessa cleared her throat. “Are you making friends again, Caleb?”

“It’s my sparkling personality.” He shoved the car into park and closed his eyes. “Tessa, are you intimating here that you’re hooking up with some guy you’ve never met just to fuck him?”

“I have met him.”

“That’s what he says.” You dumb ass. You are the guy! But at the same time, it didn’t matter. She was…he shut the mental debate down and waited for her answer. Part of him was already onboard, ready to pull the phone from its space in the console so he could fire up Facebook and set up a time and place.

But…

“Tessa, are you being smart here?”

“I was smart when I accepted Tyson’s proposal,” she said quietly. “Everybody said so. All my friends thought he was a great catch.”

“I didn’t.” Drumming his fist on the door, he stared straight ahead.

“Yeah. And that goes to show you’re the smart one.” She laughed softly.

“Then listen to me now. Are you reacting with your head here? Your heart? Or something else?” Guilt was working free now. He’d known Tessa for a lifetime, and he’d used all of that knowledge to manipulate her. He felt like a fucking bastard now. I have to tell her. But now wasn’t the time and he knew it.

He wasn’t the smart one.

He was the selfish one.

“I don’t…Caleb, he feels right. It’s like…everything we talk about, it’s like we fit.”

His heart ached and he wanted to shout. That’s because it’s me! We do fit. Why can’t you see it, when it’s just me?

“Just take some time, okay?” he said roughly. “Think it through first.”

If she sent him a message and told him she wanted to meet up…

No. He had to come clean first. “Look, I gotta go.”

“Yeah, me, too. Break’s over and I’ve got a meeting with the docs.”

He went to disconnect and then softly, because he had to know, he asked, “Tess?”

“Yeah?”

“How come we’ve never gone out? Seriously. You and me?”

She didn’t answer. For a long moment, she was quiet. Then she laughed, as if she’d never considered the idea. “We’re friends, Caleb.”

“So?”

“Ah. Well. I guess I never thought about it.”

“Maybe you could. You shut me down a hundred times. I’m going for one-oh-one here, but maybe we could try dinner. A movie.”

∞

The messenger box stayed empty.

There were no phone calls.

No letters.

Four days passed and come Friday, Tessa didn’t know what to think.

She was torn between brooding over that and trying puzzle through what lay ahead that night.

A date.

She hadn’t been out on a date in a while. Well, there were the dates with Tyson, but once you’re in a serious relationship, things are different. A girl knows what to expect, right?

But now she was going on a date with Caleb.

Caleb.

She thought of the first time she’d seen him. She’d been moving into the house where she still lived and he’d been at his grandmother’s.

She’d been four.

That one memory was crystal clear.

She’d jumped out of the car, clutching a bear and a boy had crashed into her. All black hair and big, pretty, pale green eyes.

She’d dropped her bear and fallen down.

So had he, but he’d jumped up and then helped her up.

He grinned at her as he picked up her bear and then he’d taken off, disappearing down the block.

He was her best friend. He was the one person in the entire world who knew her, inside and out, through and through. If there was ever anybody in her life she could on, it was Caleb. And they were going out on a date.

She should feel stupid about it. It should seem silly.

So why was she so nervous?

Tessa stood in her closet and grabbed another dress off a hanger, held it up, and then jammed it back into place.

Nervous?

She laughed, almost hysterically.

She wasn’t nervous.

She was terrified.

The idea of going out on a date with her best friend should have been laughable, but she was elated and excited and…and…she pressed a hand to her belly, hoping it would settle the razor-winged butterflies that seemed to have taken up residence there. It did no good.

Terrified.

Yes.

She was terrified.

She was excited.

She was nervous and she knew exactly why.

Everything about Tyson had seemed perfectly right, but it had felt all wrong.

Everything with her secret admirer felt perfectly right but it seemed all wrong. Not that she really knew him or had a chance to know him, since the stubborn jerk wouldn’t consent to meet her.

But everything with Caleb?

Right.

In every way.

And that terrified her.

Grabbing a hot pink sundress she’d bought on a whim, she pulled it down and marched out of her closet, into her bathroom. She went to pull it on, but stopped. The dress was cute and sexy, but it was also a lot more formfitting than anything she’d ever owned. So she left and went to her bureau, pulled it open and studied the neatly folded pieces of lingerie. She owned more lingerie than really necessary, considering she never had a chance to put any of it to use. Tyson certainly hadn’t given her any reason to need it.

She shook her head, pushing thoughts of him to the back of her head and picked up the garment she’d been looking for. It was sexy as hell and functional, something that had cost a ridiculous amount of money, but Tessa loved pretty things, loved sexy things, and she’d felt wicked and beautiful when she put it on. Without letting herself think, she carried it into the bathroom.

It was one of those foundation garments that smoothed everything down but this one managed to be appealing, too. It had been worth the extra money. After she’d pulled on the hot pink dress, working it into place, she stood there and stared.

The nerves screaming inside her rose to a crescendo and she closed her eyes, sucked in a breath.

This was too much.

It was too sexy.

This wasn’t her.

The doorbell rang.

Swearing, she rushed out of the bedroom and stared at the clock.

Caleb pushed the doorbell again.

He was fifteen minutes early.

When the door swung open, Tessa stood there flushed with her hair tousled and her eyes snapping.

She glared at him.

“You’re early, damn it.!”

He stared.

“Well?”

She crossed her arms over her chest, tapping one bare foot.

He dragged a hand down his face and started mentally reciting one of the legal cases they’d been given to study. It was dry, bland, boring. It had absolutely no effect on the hard-on that was pulsing inside his trousers.

As Tessa continued to glare at him, he lifted the bottle he’d brought over.

She scowled at him and then, her eyes softening, she reached out and took it. “You bum,” she said, sighing. “When did you have time to go out there?”

He shrugged. No reason to tell her he’d gone by her favorite winery a month or so ago, when classes had been on spring break, and picked up a case of her favorite wine, right? It was a couple hours away, so she usually didn’t get up there very often, either.

“It’s cold,” he said.

“I can tell.” She slid him a look as she strode into the kitchen.

His eyes narrowed on the strip of pale flesh visible through the open zipper of her dress.

“Since you’re frazzling me by showing up early, I’m having a glass.”

He moved up behind her as she pulled a corkscrew out of a drawer. “You’re open.”

She stilled. Was it just him, or did her breath catch as he slid the tab of the zipper up?

He wanted to press his mouth to the vulnerable skin at the nape of her neck. Wanted to bite her. Right there.

Instead, he fell back and waited as she poured two glasses and offered him one.

He took it, although her taste in wine ran to the sugary side.

She took a sip and then nodded down the hall. “I need to finish getting ready.”

He said nothing. He was tempted to duck into the hall bathroom and deal with his immediate, physical problem, but he wouldn’t.

He’d been hiding how he felt about her for too long and he’d already decided it was time to stop. Either Tessa could accept it and they could make something together…or he’d just been fooling himself.

Either way, he needed to know.

Chapter Four

I had a good time.

The words circled around in her head as Caleb pulled up the driveway and she wondered just what she was supposed to say to the man she knew better than she knew herself. To the man who knew her better than she knew herself.

Just what did she say as he walked her to her door?

She knew what she wanted to say.

She had had a good time, although that wasn’t a surprise. It wasn’t like they hadn’t grabbed a meal together, or a movie before.

It was just that this was…different.

Dinner together as friends was one thing.

But Caleb hadn’t looked at her like a friend tonight.

She’d felt the difference. Part of her wondered if maybe that difference was something that had been there for a while, and she just hadn’t seen it.

Caleb had always watched her.

His fingers brushed down the back of her hand and she looked up, realized they’d been sitting in the parked car. She hadn’t even realized he’d shut off the engine.

The silence of the night wrapped around her as she looked over at him.

Green eyes watched her.

She licked her lips.

Then her breath seemed to lodge inside her chest as she realized he was doing it again—watching her. Specifically, her mouth. He watched the path her tongue had taken with intent interest and her heart started to race. “Caleb—”

He reached up and cupped her face, brushed his thumb across her lower lip, following the path her tongue had taken.

She lapsed into silence.

Unwittingly, she swayed forward.

It seemed the most natural thing in the world to kiss him.

His tongue traced across the contours of her lip, slow and confident, demanding entrance and when she didn’t yield fast enough, he just took it. She reached up and gripped his wrist, moaning into his kiss and he growled, swallowing the sound down.

That one kiss became another, and then another.

Then it ended and she was sitting her seat, panting. Caleb was gone.

His door had opened, shut.

She looked around, confused and then jerked her ahead as he opened her door.

He pulled her out and she all but sagged against him, desperate for another one of those kisses.

He pushed her back up against the car, his hips pinning hers in place as his hands buried into her hair, twisting and twining and arching her head back for another kiss. “Open,” he growled. “Open.”

She did.

His tongue came into her mouth and she sucked on it, greed taking over.

Caleb shuddered.

She slid her hands down his chest and wrapped her arms around his torso, gripping him tight. She arched closer, rubbing against him. Inside the silk of her bra, her nipples were tight, swollen and throbbing. She couldn’t get close enough.

∞

Silken smooth skin lay below the hem of her skirt.

Caleb felt just a few inches as he worked the tight material up and then he encountered something else—tight and form fitting, like she’d poured herself into it. He wanted her naked. Now. Thought about just shoving the skirt of the dress up over her ass, and whatever fussy feminine thing she was wearing under it. Then he could bend her over.

His mind had already processed the terrain around them. Left over from his time in the Navy.

It was too bright out here, the light from the garage shining down on them.

He could get her up to the porch. There was a darkened corner there—

Tessa moaned out his name and he went rigid.

What the fuck are you doing?

Slowly, he eased away.

When she tried to follow his mouth, he brushed hers with soft, soothing kisses.

There was no way in hell he could possibly do this.

Not with Tessa.

She’d finally seen him.

He couldn’t risk blowing it.

A few strained seconds passed, her heaving chest rising to meet his own and then she opened her eyes.

They stared at each other in the light coming down on them from the garage.

He twined one lock of golden hair around his finger.

“There’s a game tomorrow.”

She blinked.

“Baseball.”

“Yeah?” She licked her lips and Caleb could have whimpered when her lashes fluttered and a low hum echoed out of her throat.

“Maybe we could go.”

“Yeah. Maybe we could.”

∞

Tessa glanced at the clock as she settled down behind her computer.

She’d left the office over an hour ago and she wasn’t due to return for ten days.

Ten whole days.

She had three days booked at a cabin in the Shenandoah Mountains where she would read, lounge in a hot tub, and do nothing but lay around. Then she would do the same thing here. Nothing glamorous, but she was looking forward to it.

And then there were a few dates with Caleb.

The first one was tonight.

In twenty minutes.

Since she had some time to kill, she was going to download some books for her upcoming laze-away.

But instead of going to browse around the bookstore’s website, she found herself at her inbox.

She only checked in her personal inbox once or twice a week—or that’s about how often she needed to check it.

There had been a time when she’d checked it daily—sometimes more.

Because she’d be waiting for a note.

It had been three weeks since she’d heard from him.

Her secret admirer.

He’d told her soon, and then he’d all but dropped off the face of the planet.

Out of the blue, he’d up and sent her an email. It was a short little dirty piece about them. A fantasy, of sorts, she guessed.

He told her about how he’d imagined taking her out.

She was dressed in a way that made him think about all the ways he wanted to take her, and make her his.

By the time the night was over, he’d been so greedy for her, when they got home, they got out of the car and hadn’t made it any farther.

∞

I push the skirt you’re wearing up over your ass, pretty little Tess. Did you wear it to tease me?

You’re moaning as I bend you over the hood of the car. It’s still hot from the drive, but you’re hotter.

You burn me as I squeeze my dick inside you. Can you feel it? Squeeze down around me and let me feel it.

I want to feel you come as I push inside. You’re wet and you’re gripping me. Just like that.

She read through the email, her face flushed.

She skipped to the next one.

It was a poem, a famous one.

I read this and thought of you.

Below those words was the poem, May I Feel Said He, by E.E. Cummings.

She skipped to the next email.

Through the open front door, she heard a door slam and she jumped.

Shaking, she closed the email.

Then, in a fit, she deleted them.

For some insane reason, Tessa felt guilty.

She didn’t even know why, but she felt guilty. Like reading these emails from a man who had been flirting with her for months was…cheating.

“It’s not like Caleb doesn’t know about him,” she muttered, shoving back from her desk.

Her skin was hot, flushed. Her heart was racing and she was panting, like she’d run a race.. All because she’d let herself read those emails. Let herself think about him again.

“I’ve got to quit this.”

Staring through the window, she watched as Caleb carried some grocery bags into the house.

He’d be over here soon.

They were going bowling.

Bowling. She found herself smiling because she hadn’t been bowling in years. Turning her head, she stared at the computer. Would her secret admirer think to take her bowling? Lately, he didn’t even think to contact her.

She bit her lip while indecision warred inside her.

So many things about Caleb felt right.

But the wild, crazy freefall with her secret admirer…that felt good.

What if this thing with Caleb didn’t work out and she’d told her secret admirer to stop? Then she would just be…alone?

Moving across the floor, she stared at the books that lined her shelves from floor to ceiling. Caleb had built them for her, one summer when he had a longer leave than normal, thanks to an injury. He’d built the bookshelves, helped her paint them and even then, he hadn’t stopped. He’d teased her endlessly as he helped her put her books into place, everything from Where the Red Fern Grows to The Story of O. Her favorite authors ranged from Laura Ingalls Wilder to J.D Robb and from John Grisham to Sylvia Day.

He’d thumbed through her copy of The Story of O and wagged his brows at her. “Maybe I should borrow this, see if I can learn something.”

She’d thrown a pillow at him.

Taking the book down, she opened it, but she wasn’t seeing anything on the page.

She was thinking about words written to her in an email.

Why are you marrying that guy, Tessa?

He can’t give you what you need.

You know what you dream about.

I know what you dream about…and I can give it to you.

She groaned, because he’d been all too descriptive. And all too right. She wasn’t experienced, but Tessa’s fantasies had never veered toward the sweet and innocent. Or the tame.

What if the guy who could give her what she needed was the man whose name she didn’t know?

Feeling a set of eyes on her, she looked up.

Caleb was standing in the doorway.

Watching her.

She put the book up and smiled at him. “Come on in,” she said.

He came in, his movements soundless, his gaze watchful. Almost thoughtful. His eyes slid from her face to the book and then back. “Planning for your next reading club?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.

“No.” An embarrassed laugh escaped and she turned away from her bookshelves. “Some of the ladies at book club, man, if they knew the books I read, they just might have a heart attack.”

She started to walk away, but Caleb’s hands closed around her waist.

A shiver raced up her spine.

“They’ve no idea about some of your secrets then,” he said. His breath caressed her neck.

The words made heat spill through her.

When he moved closer, she closed her eyes and let her head fall back against his shoulder. “Do you?” she asked, thinking about the emails she’d been reading, about the questions and doubts she harbored inside.

What would he do, she wondered, if he knew about some of things she dreamed about. About some of the things she longed for? Would he think she was perverse? Tyson had. She’d never outright told Tyson about some of the things she dreamed about, but she’d sketched hypotheticals. It had been easy, thanks to the popularity of the Fifty Shades thing. She’d been into BDSM lit way before that book had even come onto the scene, but she’d bought a copy of the book, casual-like, and Tyson’s mouth had pinched as though she’d shoved a lemon into it. Her former fiancé would have thought she was a perverted freak.

Caleb…

Slowly, she turned in his arms and lifted her gaze up to him.

He threaded his hand through her hair. “What secrets you hiding, Tess?” he asked.

∞

The nervous smile she gave him just about twisted Caleb’s gut into knots.

She curled her arms around his waist and leaned in, letting him take some of her weight and he smothered a groan at the feel of her breasts, soft and sweet, flattening against his chest. Her nipples were stiff. He could feel it through her bra and her t-shirt and he wanted to strip both garments away so he could taste those nipples, feel them against his tongue.

“Lots of them.” She bit her lip and then glanced back at her bookshelf. “Reading’s supposed to expand your mind. It’s definitely done that. It also made me…”

Her words stuttered to a stop and he watched as her cheeks went pink. The blush was almost the same shade as her top and her eyes were hot and bright. Nervous. Excited. Slowly, he slid his gaze past hers to the bookshelf, as if studying it for the first time. Not that he needed to look. He knew every damn book on it. Most of them weren’t his sort of thing, but after he’d seen her reading one of the books—a classic among those who enjoyed a certain lifestyle, he’d started paying a lot more attention to her reading material.

Just about all of them were heavy on the romance. And every single one was heavy on the erotic.

“Made you what, Tess?” he asked as he laid his hands on her shoulders.

Her breathing hitched. She licked her lips. Then she shrugged. “Curious…?”

He kissed her.

It was quick, hard and fast and it wasn’t enough, but if he didn’t kiss her then, he thought he just might go out of his mind.

Just that one kiss, he told himself.

She moaned into his mouth.

He angled her head back, twisting his fingers in her hair and cranking her head back until he had her mouth angled where he wanted it. Walking her back, he maneuvered her until she was trapped between him and the couch and then he used his foot to nudge her ankles apart, widening her stance so that he could rest his hips in the cradle of hers.

She shuddered.

Gripping her hip, he held her steady and then moved against her. When she started to shake, he had to fight not to step back and tear her clothes off, bend her over that couch, and drive his dick deep, deep, deep inside her.

“Curious, Tess?” he asked, breaking the kiss and gliding his lips up to her ear. “Curious about…”

Her head fell back, her eyes staring sightlessly up at the ceiling.

He circled his hips against her.

She whimpered.

“I’m curious, too,” he said against her ear. “Can I tell you what I’m curious about?”

There was no response for so long, he started to wonder if she’d heard. But then she nodded her head. It was a movement so small, he might have missed it if he hadn’t been waiting. Once he had that small assent, he slid his hand down to the button of her jeans and toyed with it. “I want to see you naked. I want to taste you. All of you. Then I want to spread you out on the floor and fill you while you moan out my name. I’ve wanted that a long time, but…well, seeing as how we’re friends, it wasn’t exactly the easiest thing to bring up.”

Caleb lifted his head and stared into her eyes.

She was watching him, stunned, shocked.

“Since we’re on the subject, though…” He lowered his mouth to hers again and licked the delicate bow of her upper lip. “Tessa, I really do want to see you naked.”

He said it because he wanted her aware of the idea.

He said it because he was tired of her not knowing.

He said it…because he wasn’t going to do anything about it tonight.

But when he stepped back, Tessa reached for the hem of her shirt.

As it fell from her fingertips, Caleb stared at her as though he’d been poleaxed.

Firm, high breasts filled a bra of palest ivory. Her nipples were pink and he could see them through the lace. Her shoulders were strong, strong and wide, and they suited the lovely weight of her breasts. As he stared at her, he thought about going to his knees in front of her. It was the first time he’d ever had that thought. But he doubted it would be the last. Tessa was the one woman who could bring him to his knees.

She stared at him, nerves written all over her face while her eyes glinted and burned.

“Well?” she asked, her voice breathless.

She sure as hell didn’t have to offer the invitation again.

He hauled her up against him and when she would have gasped out his name, he smothered the sound with his lips. Hungry, greedy for what he’d needed for what felt like a lifetime, Caleb caught her bra and all but yanked it down, baring her breasts and catching one plump nipple in his mouth.

Tessa’s garbled shriek bounced off the walls.

He half-thought about picking her up, carrying her to her room. Deciding it was too far away.

The couch?

He boosted her up and settled her on it. She wrapped her legs around him, her knees squeezing at his hips. He grunted as the wet heat of her cuddled against his cock, even through their clothes. Impatient, he held her steady as he started to pump against her. “I want you,” he rasped against her mouth. “Want you wet and naked, squeezing around my cock. Yes, or no. Tell me now.”

∞

Her head was spinning.

What…

How…

Huh?

All of that seemed to combine in her head, forming a demanding question that had only one answer.

Caleb.

When he pulled away just enough to speak against her lips, one simple demand, all she could think was, “Yes.”

And that was what she said.

If she’d thought her head was spinning then, she really wasn’t ready for what came next. In the span of what seemed like a split second, she went from somewhat clothed—her bra twisted beneath her breasts while she wore her jeans and underwear—to nothing. How she ended up naked, she had no idea and she didn’t care, because being naked made it really, really easy to feel the hot, heavy weight of Caleb’s body and it was…amazing.

He was all lean muscle.

When he lifted up and pulled off his shirt, Tessa had a few—admittedly too few—seconds to admire the scarred perfection of his chest before he came back down on her. When had they ended up on the floor?

She didn’t know.

She didn’t care.

She gripped at his shoulders as he began to kiss his way down her torso.

Was he…

Caleb’s teeth scraped over her hip.

Oh, yeah. He was.

His tongue flicked over her clitoris.

She wailed and arched up.

His hands cupped her ass and he lifted her. When he pushed his tongue inside her, Tessa thought she just might explode from the pleasure. It was going to kill her. And if that didn’t—

He teased her between the cheeks of her ass and she moaned, shivering as he parted her there and then pressed up against her. “Caleb…?”

He pushed inside.

She came.

It was hard and fast and she was still convulsing from it when he came up her body and drove inside.

She screamed, but this time, the sound had an edge of pain in it.

Caleb froze over her, his arms locked tight as he stared down at her.

Her eyes, wide and startled, met his.

“Tessa?”

She sucked in a breath and beneath him, he could feel her squirming, struggling to adjust to his weight—to him—the silken glide of her pussy along his cock had him shuddering and he reached down, caught her hip. “Don’t.”

She stiffened.

All that did was tighten her around him, like a fist. Clenching and squeezing…

Caleb could have sworn sweat popped out on his brow in that very second.

“I…” He gulped in a harsh breath and then focused on her face. “Just be still.”

“I can’t really move with you crushing me,” she said.

He almost laughed. Shifting his weight, he slid his elbows under her shoulders, bracing her. Then, slowly, he withdrew.

She winced and he brushed a gentle kiss against her lips. “You’re a virgin. I…fuck, I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

Tessa’s breasts shuddered as she drew in an unsteady breath. “I…I’m fine. Am—everything’s okay, isn’t it?”

“Oh, more then.” Tenderness, possessiveness and primitive greed flooded him as he rubbed his mouth against hers. Mine, he thought. She’s mine…only mine. Eyes on hers, he changed his angle as he slowly pushed back inside.

“Oh…” A soft, breathy moan escaped her.

“Am I hurting you?”

“It’s…” She winced again as he withdrew. “Not bad.”

He bit her chin. “Liar.” Then he adjusted his angle and slid one hand down, bringing her knee to his hip. Then, once more, he slid in, pulled out…and a low, rough moan escaped her. “Not bad,” he teased.

Not bad—

Tessa wanted to yell, beg, scream, plead. Wanted more, needed more, but she didn’t know how to ask and she seemed to have forgotten how to breathe as well. He stroked deeper this time and it knocked the breath out of her, making her cry out and Caleb looked pretty pleased with that. His lips brushed over hers and she opened, trying to kiss him, trying to tell him what she needed.

But he just brushed another soft, teasing kiss.

“Harder,” she managed to say.

He lifted his head up, studied her. “Tessa…”

“Please!”

He drove into her harder.

She tensed.

He paused. “Tessa?”

“Caleb, please!”

He withdrew, the motion slow…

She held her breath.

And he knocked it completely out of her again when he surged in, deep, so deep she lost track of where he ended and she began. The pain was there, slicing and burning, but it mingled with the sweetest, hottest pleasure.

This—

He gripped her ass, lifted her higher.

She moaned out his name.

The noise that escaped him was savage, demanding, possessive.

“Come for me,” he said against her mouth. “I want to feel you come.”

The words, hot, sexy, demanding, rolled across her skin like silken fire but she was already caught up in the grip of her orgasm and she never really understood just what he was saying.

Chapter Five

Caleb read the note.

Then he tore it from the door and read it again.

“What the fuck?”

Swearing, he spun away and shoved a hand through his hair, wet from the rain he’d sprinted through. He’d come over here to talk to her. He’d left her that morning—he had a class, not that there had been much point in going, because he hadn’t heard any of the lecture. He’d heard Tessa—replayed each moan, each sigh, each ragged whisper of his name. He hadn’t seen the notes he’d written by rote. He’d seen her face, the flutter of her lashes, the flush on her cheeks and the dazed pleasure in her eyes.

He’d seen the shocked pain as it gave way to startled pleasure.

He’d felt the silken glide of her skin as he drove into her and he’d felt her climax, over and over.

And he’d heard the words he hadn’t said.

So he’d come straight here because he was tired of these games he was playing, tired of the things he hadn’t said.

But she wasn’t here.

Headed to the mountains a few days early. I need to think, Caleb.

T.

Think?

She needed to think?

“Why can’t you think here?”

But she wasn’t there to answer his question.

Swearing, he started to pace. But the porch wasn’t big enough to contain him so he moved out to her yard. Eventually, that wasn’t big enough either, so he started to move up and down the sidewalk. But even that became too small, so he started to run. Their small, neat subdivision wasn’t enough to help him burn out the frustration and the fear as he circled around it time after time, although the muscles in his wounded back were knotting up, screaming at him to stop.

He didn’t remember leaving the neighborhood where they’d lived most of their lives.

He didn’t remember taking the long, winding road that led out into the countryside.

But he had.

At some point, his leaden legs gave up on him and he slowed to a jog, then a walk.

That was when the pain made itself known and he realized he was doing more of a shamble than anything else.

He looked around in the driving rain and groaned.

He’d been trained to block out pain, block out misery, and just get the job done.

Apparently, he’d decided there was a job to do. That job had involved running his ass off and just getting the hell away from anything that reminded him of Tessa.

He’d done a good job, too. “Way to go, Caleb,” he said, panting. He looked around, caught sight of the distant glow of gas station. A few hundred yards. He could do that.

After all, he’d just run eight fucking miles.

Collapsing inside the cabin, Tessa looked around the dim room and then hit the lights.

It had been a ten-hour drive.

She was exhausted.

She was also an idiot.

She was tempted to go straight back home tomorrow, but she’d already paid for the extra days, and they didn’t do refunds here.

“You came here to think. So think.”

Her phone chimed and she glanced down, then sighed, sliding down the door to sit with her back against it in a slump.

It was him.

Not Caleb.

Her other him.

Which was why she was here thinking.

All this time, she’d been so caught up and hooked on finding this guy.

And then one night with Caleb….no. A couple nights with Caleb.

How could two different guys do this to her?

Especially when one of them had been right in front of her the whole time?

Tired, weary to the bone, she slid her thumb across the screen and read the message.

Been thinking about you.

She swallowed and dropped her head back against the door.

Hardly anything…for weeks.

And now he’s thinking about her.

Thinking about me? You don’t even seem to email me much anymore.

She typed it out, almost hint send.

But then she stopped and just deleted his message.

She wasn’t ready to talk to this man she didn’t even know.

He’d turned her world upside down, sent her spinning half out of control and she’d found herself smashing into Caleb.

At the time, she’d liked the spinning and the lack of control and she sure as hell wasn’t complaining about the fact that she’d wised up to what was going on with Tyson.

But now…

She thought about Caleb.

His green eyes.

His slow smile.

She thought about the way he’d crashed into her back when she’d first moved into that house, and how he still seemed to be crashing into her. Just in new and weird ways. Crazy ways. Amazing ways.

The phone chimed again.

But instead of reading it, she just silenced the phone and plugged it in to charge.

She was going to take herself a nice, hot bath.

She was going to have herself a nice, cold glass of wine.

And then she was going to sleep. For maybe a week. Or at least until she didn’t feel so damn tired.

Tomorrow, she’d think this whole thing through and maybe, just maybe, she’d figure out how her best friend had managed to tangle her up in a million knots.

And then, she’d figure out what to do about the other guy.

∞

Caleb grabbed the phone for the tenth time in under thirty minutes.

No response.

He tossed it back into the cup holder, cut across traffic, and hit the exit. The good thing about driving late at night was that there wasn’t a lot of traffic. The bad thing was that most of the traffic involved a lot of truckers. They didn’t the sleek, black bullet of a car he was driving cutting in and out, but he was in a hurry, so oh, well.

He’d been about four hours behind Tessa.

She hadn’t answered either of the messages he’d sent.

Well, the he she didn’t know was him.

He had called earlier and while she hadn’t answered that call, she had texted him back.

I’m a bum and you’re probably mad at me. But I needed to think. Please forgive me. I’ll be back soon.

Okay. So she had to think.

If he was a nicer guy, he’d leave her alone to think.

But it seemed to him that she’d think better if she knew all the facts.

So, hey, Tessa. I think you’re freaked out by what happened and I get that. Really. But there’s something you should know…

He laughed sourly as he took the exit that led toward the small town where Tessa was staying for the week. Or at least the small town closest to where she was staying.

She always went to the mountains.

And she had a particular cabin that she loved.

If she wasn’t there, then he’d have to resort to digging around come morning.

His muscles sent a spasm down his leg and he gritted his teeth, fought through it. He was going to be in a hell of a lot of pain when he climbed out of this car, that was for damn sure.

∞

He found her.

The cabin wasn’t hard to find and he climbed out of the car, then had to spend a miserable three or four minutes there, arms braced on top of the roof as he breathed through his teeth and called himself a hundred different names for idiot and dumbass. When he ran out of known terms, he created a few and shifted to one of the three languages he’d been taught in the service.

Finally, he thought he could walk without too much pain so he took a couple of slow test steps.

His leg wanted to buckle, but he kept going.

A hot bath. Maybe one of the pain pills he rarely let himself take. And he’d do the same PT exercises the physical therapist was always pushing on him. He’d be good as new—or as good as he could be anyway—in a few days.

But first he had to get in the damn cabin and sit down.

See Tessa.

Talk to her.

Make sure she was okay.

He was sweating by the time he cleared the porch.

Lifting his hand, he knocked. Held his breath and waited.

The scream of pain in his leg made every second drawn out, but he was pretty sure he’d stood there almost a minute. He made himself wait another, because she was bound to be asleep.

Then he knocked again.

And again.

Finally, he pulled out his phone and squinted at it, his eyes blurring now from the pain.

He knocked again, waited again.

He gave it another five minutes and then called her.

No answer.

He couldn’t even hear her phone ringing in the cabin.

Teeth gritted, he started a slow walk around the porch. Adrenaline was boosting through him now though, clearing some of the pain. He sent her a message—and in the fugue-like state caused by pain, he didn’t realize he’d gone into the program he’d used to send her the anonymous messages.

If you’re in there, open the damn door, Tess. It’s Caleb, damn it.

Jamming his phone into his pocket, he eased closer and peered into windows. Living room. Not much to see. Kitchen. Not much to see. Bathroom…Jacuzzi tub. Wine glass. He frowned and stared hard, grimacing at the pressure he put on his thigh as he bent forward. Adrenaline had chased away the pain and he knew if he had to move, he could. He pivoted and started back to the front and then stopped.

The different angle let him see something he’d missed earlier.

Tessa lay bonelessly on a chair tucked into the corner.

There was a wine glass next to her hand.

He groaned and lifted a fist, tapped the window.

She didn’t stir.

He hit harder.

Still no response.

Fuck it.

He could get inside and he was going to get inside.

∞

Tessa’s head was pounding.

She was also moving and she didn’t think she was supposed to be moving.

A low voice rumbled in her ear and she tensed, then swore and swung out.

“Easy, Tessa. It’s just me.”

Opening one eye a mere slit, she saw a face above hers, blotting out the light that shone through the door. “Who…”

“Drink this.”

She shoved at the hand holding the glass to her lips. “Don’t wanna.”

“You drank a whole bottle of wine. You’re going to need the water. Now drink it.”

Bossy.

She wrinkled her nose but accepted the water. After a few drinks, she tried to push him away. “Not yet. Some ibuprofen.”

“Why don’t you shove—hey!” Something was shoved in her mouth and then she almost choked as he all but poured the water down her throat, forcing her to swallow the pills. “Asshole.”

“You’ll thank me later.”

“Asshole.” She slumped into the bed. Sighing, she would have curled up and drifted back into sleep, but a warm body settled down next to hers. Strong arms pulled her close.

She tensed again.

“It’s just me.”

She wanted to ask who me was.

But her brain wasn’t fully awake. She focused her thoughts to ask. Then her mind supplied her with an image.

Green eyes. A slow smile.

Caleb…

∞

The only light was the silvery glimmer of the full moon shining in through the skylight that was directly over her bed. And her eyes remained closed. When she didn’t waken, he wasn’t surprised, not really. She had been such a heavy sleeper in school, he had frequently been forced to stall the bus driver—forgot his lunch money, his ball rolled under the bus—anything to give her the extra five or ten minutes she would need to stumble out of the house, still half asleep.

He smoothed the hair from her face, stroked his thumb across her lower lip.

She shivered a little and then snuggled in closer.

She was going to have a headache in the morning.

But he’d managed to get the better part of two glasses of water down her, as well as some ibuprofen so hopefully, the hangover wouldn’t too murderous.

She shifted again and this time, her knee pushed into his throbbing thigh.

He swallowed a groan. How long did it take a couple of painkillers to kick in anyway?

Then she shoved her face into his neck and sighed his name.

The pain in his leg receded.

“I’m here, baby,” he whispered, cradling the back of her head. “I’m here.”

Eventually, the throbbing in his thigh dulled and his own exhaustion caught up with him.

He sank into sleep with the scent of her hair wrapping around him.

Chapter Six

Tessa came awake slowly, certain she was dreaming. A big, hard body was pressed against hers, a hot, heavy chest against her back, while one hand gripped her hip.

She shifted and heard a grunt behind her.

Her eyes flew open.

“If you keep squirming like that, you’re going to end up on your hands and knees with my cock inside you before I even fully wake up,” a low, husky voice rumbled.

For a split second, that tugged an image to mind. Something somebody had written her…

You on your hands and knees…

Instinctively, she shivered and clamped her knees together. That movement pushed her butt backward and she gasped a moment later when she found herself sprawled, half-bent, facedown over the bed.

Caleb pushed one knee between her thighs and she caught a fistful of the sheet in her hand as she looked into the mirror hanging on the wall across the room. “What are you doing here?” she asked, bewildered.

“I’m about to fuck you, that’s what.”

She shivered at the blunt, basic words. “But…”

He stilled, meeting her eyes in the mirror. “Want me to stop?”

Her breath caught. And then, slowly, she shook her head.

The rasping of his zipper was terribly loud and she bit her lip, not daring to move, not daring to do anything for fear of shattering this spell. She almost thought it might be a dream, except she had the dull, lingering headache caused by too much wine. If she were dreaming, she would have left out the hangover.

He moved between her thighs.

She continued to stare at him from where she lay, face down, her hips boosted up on the small pillow she’d curled around at some point during the night.

He pressed up against her and she moaned, blindly reaching one hand back to grab his thigh.

He pushed inside.

It was a slow, thorough claiming and she could feel each thick inch as he took her. She dug her nails into his skin and wailed as he pulled out, then surged back in again.

He caught her wrist, brought it to the small of her back, then did the same with the other.

She tensed, tugged against the light hold, but he didn’t let go.

“Tell me you’re mine, Tessa,” he said, his voice low and thick.

She whimpered instead.

He thrust harder, squeezed her wrists.

It sent a delicious, biting pain through her and she clamped down tighter on his cock. “Caleb!”

He went still and she stared at him in the mirror, watched as he slowly and patiently rearranged her body, like a doll’s. She groaned as he pulled her upright, her back flush against his front, one arm around her waist, her breasts thrust upward.

When he was done, he drew her up, displaying her body, her breasts, her torso…she could even see her pussy and the thickness of his cock spearing into her.

“You know how long I’ve wanted this?” he demanded, staring into her reflection, his gaze holding her spellbound. “How long I’ve wanted you?”

The words cut into the heart of her. She had no strength, would have fallen forward if he hadn’t held her steady with one strong arm. She gripped his forearm, clung to him as he drove up into her again, deep, hard, fast, with so much force it arched her back, lifting her breasts high.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he said again.

She reached up, cradling his cheek. His eyes were tormented, haunted. “Are you mine?” she asked instead.

He groaned and buried his face in her hair. “Always.”

His cock swelled, pulsed—she came with a broken moan.

∞

The first order of the day: bathroom.

The second?

Confront Caleb.

Not that she wasn’t happy…well, okay, that seemed a little tame considering she was still pulsing inside from the orgasm he’d given her.

She’d waited a while to actually get into the swing of things as far as sex went—a late bloomer for sure. She’d had her reasons. She’d gone to school with plenty of girls who talked about their virginity like it was some sort of burden to just be done away with, but that hadn’t been Tessa. She was, deep down, a romantic. She’d wanted it to matter and there hadn’t been anybody. The guy she’d dated off and on her senior year? He’d dumped her right before prom, so she’d just gone with friends, danced with them…and Caleb.

In college, she’d dated a few guys, but again, nobody serious.

When are you going to lose it? She’d been asked by some of her girlfriends. But she hadn’t looked at being a virgin as some sort of fatal disease. She’d have sex when she was ready.

And she’d been ready with her best friend.

Go figure. Now, though, she definitely understood why some women were really, really into the orgasm thing. Blushing, she studied her face. She looked almost ridiculously pleased which meant she was making the right choice.

She’d done it in a fit of alcohol-induced loopiness, but last night she’d come to the conclusion that Caleb wanted her enough to tell her, to come to her.

Whoever was seducing her in secret? He didn’t.

And she was coming to realize that she was crazy about Caleb. Completely crazy about him. He made her laugh. He’d always done that. He made her happy. He’d always done that. And now she knew he could make her burn.

Smiling a little, she opened the door and found him standing by the window, shoulders rigid.

Some of the pleasure fluttering in her heart faded away.

Still, she strove for a mock stern voice as she said, “Buddy, you and me are going to have it out. I’m not even going to waste my time asking how in the hell you got into my cabin. You and your superhero Navy SEALS shit…you realize people have an expectation of privacy, right?”

For a long moment, he said nothing. He didn’t even look at her.

When he did, he said quietly, “We need to talk.”

“That’s what I just said.”

He shook his head.

He glanced down and she saw that he was holding his phone.

She frowned. “Is everything okay? I…shit, I’ve had my phone off. Is…it’s not your mom, is it?”

She spun on her heel and ran into the living room, grabbing her purse and dumping it out. The phone was the last thing to come out.

But before she could turn it on, Caleb reached over her shoulder and took it.

She swiped at it, but he held it out of her reach.

“My mom is fine, baby,” he said.

But he wouldn’t look at her. His eyes glanced over her face and then away. Back to her face, then away.

“Caleb, give me my phone,” she said, trembling deep inside. “You…shit, you didn’t go and beat up Tyson or something stupid, did you?”

He stared up at the ceiling and blew out a breath. “No. I’ve thought about it. Quite a few times, if I had to tell you the truth.”

“Why?” She gaped at him.

Now he looked at her, pinned her with a hard, level stare. “Isn’t it obvious?”

He looked down at the phones he held and then tossed her hers. He shoved his into his back pocket and looped his hands behind his neck. “You know, I can’t recall a time when I didn’t love you. Can’t recall a time when my world didn’t revolve around you. Even when I was in the Navy, all of it was about making myself into the kind of man I thought you’d be proud of.”

Dazed, she sank down onto her butt, drawing her knees to her chest. “What…Caleb, what are you talking about?”

“Didn’t I just tell you?” He shrugged. “I’m in love with you. I always had a thing for you, but I can tell you exactly when I knew I loved you. It was tenth grade. That dickhead Price Green was picking on the girl with Down’s Syndrome and you punched him in the nose. I knew then that I loved you. But you…” He smiled and it was sad. “You never saw.”

Tessa sucked in a breath. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I tried.” He hitched up a shoulder. “The dance that weekend? I asked you to go with me. You told me that the girl he’d been picking on? Angie. You said she had a crush on me and it would make her day if I asked her. So I did. For you.”

He sighed and turned away. “You need to turn on your phone. You’ve got a message. You’re going to be pissed off at me here in a minute. But…” His voice went raw and ragged. “Fuck, Tessa. You were going to marry that bastard, and he didn’t love you. You weren’t listening to me and you didn’t ever see me. So…I…hell. I had to find another way to make you see.”

Confused, hurting all over again, she turned her phone on.

She heard him go out the front door.

The message bubble on her phone made her groan.

She didn’t want to deal with him now.

But…

She frowned.

Her phone had been off.

The only messages were from him.

She tapped on them and they all came up. She reach one, getting more confused.

Then her gaze landed on the fifth—and last one.

It’s me, Caleb.

It had to be a mistake.

She read the message. Five times. Each time, she told herself it had to be a mistake.

But it wasn’t.

They all came from the same number. A number that wasn’t his.

A hysterical laugh escaped her and she clamped her hand over her lips to stifle it. Really, how hard would it be for a guy like Caleb to make it seem like texts were coming from a different phone number?

Surging to her feet, she spun and threw the phone.

It hit the wall and then crashed to the floor.

She didn’t bother to see if it had broken.

She was already out the front door.

He was standing on the porch, hands in his pockets, staring outside.

“You lied to me!”

He turned his head, watching as she came striding toward him.

She jabbed him in the chest with a nail painted the color of plums.

“I did.” He shrugged and went back to staring out over the yard.

“You…” She stopped and then started again. “Aren’t you going to say anything else?”

“What do you want me to say?” He pretended to debate. “I guess I could lie and say I’m sorry. But I would be lying. If I’d done nothing, you’d still be puttering along, letting that jackass make plans for a wedding you’d hate, letting him criticize a dress you loved, letting him plan a honeymoon you didn’t want…you were already miserable, Tessa, but you didn’t hear anybody when they tried to tell you!”

“It was my mistake to make!”

She jutted her chin up as she yelled at him.

He bent his head and shoved his face into hers. “But I loved you too much to see you miserable. You want to hate me for that? Go ahead. Never talk to me again. I’ll deal. But at least you’re happy now.”

He went to turn away.

She caught his arm.

“So it was all just to stop me from marrying Tyson? You didn’t…” She faltered.

He cut off the rest of her words with his mouth.

Backing her up to the wall, he trapped her there, between his body and the wood. The muscles in his leg were already knotted up, but he ignored them, focused instead on the softness of her and bringing a moan to her lips. “Does this feel like it has anything to do with that uptight doctor, baby?”

She moaned.

“Caleb…”

“I told you already. I’ve loved you since we were kids. Nothing’s ever going to change that.” He skimmed his hand along her side, cupped her hip. “I’ll love you tomorrow and I’ll love you in fifty years. You can walk down those steps, drive away from me, fall in love with some guy you meet at the gas station and get married, have his kids…and never see me again. And I’ll still love you. So no. It wasn’t all just to stop you from marrying the limpdick.”

“I made love to you because I’ve wanted it for longer than you can imagine.” He breathed it against her skin, felt her shudder. “I kissed you because I’ve gone insane wondering how you’d taste. I asked you to go out with me because I’d hoped you’d finally look at me and see the man who loved you…not just your buddy across the street.”

He gave her a soft, lingering kiss.

And then he moved away.

“I’m sorry I hurt you. But if I had to do it over again…” He shrugged. He took a step, grimaced as his thigh sent pain screaming through him. But he bore down and ignored it. “I’m going grab my stuff, then head out. You need time to think.”

∞

He was halfway inside before she spoke.

“No.”

She was acting on instinct here and she knew it.

But she wasn’t going to go back on the promise she’d made herself last night.

Okay, so the two men who drove her to distraction were one and the same. She could…adjust to that, right?

Caleb stilled in the doorway.

“Aren’t you going to look at me?”

Stiffly, he turned. She frowned as he reached out, braced his weight on the door. Her gaze drifted down to his leg and he stiffened, his face going cold. So she didn’t ask. Instead, she moved toward him. “No. I don’t need to think. I did that.”

Reaching up, she cupped his face. She blew out a sigh and then leaned in, pressed a kiss to his mouth.

“I did think, Caleb. I did a lot of thinking. Most of it was last night and most of it was under the influence, but I figured something out.” Pressing her brow to his, she said, “There’s only ever been one constant in my life, one person I always looked for, one person I always needed. One person I always thought to call, whether things were good or bad…or just plain boring. It’s always been you, Caleb. I feel like I’ve spent most of my life waiting for something…but it was you all along. That’s what I figured out last night. So I don’t need to think anymore.”

She cupped his face in her hands. “Maybe it took me a while, Caleb. But I see you now…please don’t go.”

Don’t Walk Away

Bonus Story – From the Mammoth Book of Romantic Suspense

Chapter One

The woman he loved held a knife at his throat.

He was on his knees, on a filthy street and she stood behind him. Close. So close he could smell her skin. So close he could reach out and touch her…finally. After all of this time…

He could still remember how she had felt in his arms, how she had felt against him, under him. Damn, he’d loved her—loved her still. Wanted her still. Would have given anything to pull her into his arms.

Except there was the small matter of the knife in her hand. And he suspected she probably hated his guts. Somehow, he doubted the knife was her way of telling him how much she missed him.

He wanted to see her. But he held still. Her hand was shaking. He could feel it, feel the sharp edge of the blade pressing into his skin. If he moved too quick, she just might lay his neck wide open.

“Fucking bastard.” It was the first thing she’d said since she’d come up behind him. It was dim in the narrow alley tucked between two low, squat buildings, Ethan Raintree had no trouble recognizing her voice.

“Hello, Celeste.”

∞

Hello, Celeste, he says.

She glared at the back of his head, hardly able to believe her ears. Her hand was shaking and she could hardly breathe. This wasn’t happening.

Hello, Celeste.

Ethan.

Ethan Raintree was here. This wasn’t really happening, was it? Couldn’t be happening, because if it was…

No.

Her throat burned, ached, and her heart raced. Her hands were sweating and the one holding the knife was shaking something awful. She needed to move. Or say something. Do something.

Oh, shit. This was happening, wasn’t it?

He was here. In Belle, Texas. Why?

She’d only know the answer to that, though, if she actually asked him. Does it matter?

Yes, she realized, it did. If she wanted those answers, she had to say something. Except she didn’t know what.

∞

“Bastard.”

“You already said that. Are we going to stay like this all night or are you going to use that knife?” Ethan asked. Part of him wondered if she could.

“Don’t tempt me,” she whispered. There was an underlying thread of steel in her voice. His heart broke a little at the sound. She’d been so soft once, so untouched. No more. The ugliness of his world had bled over into hers.

Yes. She could use the knife. He hated that he might be responsible for that. But would she? Ethan didn’t know. In that moment, he didn’t know if he’d even stop her.

Tense moments passed but eventually, she lowered the knife and backed away.

Slowly, Ethan came to his feet and turned to face her. The sight of her now did the same thing to him as it had the first time he’d seen her—it was a punch straight to his heart, straight to his soul…and even as he wanted to cuddle her close, protect her from the entire world, all the blood drained straight from his brain down to his cock and he wanted to take her, mark her, brand her…claim her.

She’d caused that reaction then; she caused it again now.

He still wanted her. He still loved her. Ethan imagined he’d go to his grave loving her. Wanting her.

Nearly eleven years had passed since he had first met her. Ten years since he had walked away. It had been the hardest thing he’d ever done, but he hadn’t had much choice. After he’d destroyed her life, leaving her alone was the least he could have done.

A decade…she’d changed.

He had as well, in some ways. But he still loved her. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be here, on this day, in this sad, run-down excuse for a town—Belle, Texas.

Belle was French for beautiful, but the town was anything but. Small and bedraggled, it was ugly as sin, poor as dirt and still struggling to catch up to the current century. But Ethan wasn’t here for the ambience. He was here because he’d known she’d be, too.

It was the anniversary of the day her grandmother had died. Every year on the second day of July, like clockwork, Celeste traveled to Belle to visit her grandmother’s grave.

Ethan knew. Every year for the past nine years, he’d been here on this day if at all possible. Before he had left the Army, he’d missed the date twice. During the five years since then, he hadn’t missed it once.

Up until now, she hadn’t ever seen him.

Judging by the look on her face, she wasn’t overly pleased about running into him. What in the hell was I thinking? he wondered.

She’d been leaving the small diner at the center of town and when she’d glanced his way, instead of melting back into the crowd, he’d lingered, just long enough for her to see him. He wasn’t sure if he was surprised she’d come after him or not, although he had been when she’d taken his feet out from under him a few minutes ago. He might have asked about that, if she hadn’t looked at him with such venom in her eyes.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded, glaring at him. Anger flashed in the depths of her dark eyes.

Ethan jerked a shoulder in a restless shrug, uncertain how to answer. Did he tell her it was because he’d known she’d be there? That he’d come so he could see her, for just a few seconds? And he’d been doing it for years?

Stalker, much?

Celeste narrowed her eyes and said, “You know, I’m pretty sure the Army Rangers aren’t in big demand around these parts. So what in the hell are you doing here?”

“I’m not with the Army anymore,” he said.

She blinked, and if he wasn’t mistaken, she looked a little caught off-guard. She recovered quickly though and gave him a cocky smirk. “Well, that would explain how you ended up on your knees in an alley, I guess. You getting rusty, Ethan? Letting somebody like me sneak up on you?”

“I heard you behind me.” And if he’d turned around just five seconds earlier, she wouldn’t have taken him out like that. He hadn’t because he’d needed a few moments to level out. By the time he’d thought he could look at her without letting her see his every emotion written on his face, she’d already got the jump on him.

“Bully for you.” Her grin took on a mean slant and she said, “So did you let me put you down? If so, why don’t we do it again? Maybe after a few dozen repeats, I’ll feel better.”

If he believed that, he just might have let her. He stared at her, hungry for the sight of her, and so much more. He wanted to feel those long, slender fingers running through his hair, curling around the back of his neck and stroking his skin as he kissed her. Then he wanted to wrap the dark wealth of her hair around his wrist, tug her head back and stare at her, just stare at her for a long, long while before he stripped her naked.

Then he’d make love to her, long and slow. Or maybe fast and hard, first. It had been so damn long—

Focus, Ethan. Focus!

Celeste stared at him, her eyes dark and guarded. “Don’t look at me like that,” she said quietly, shaking her head.

“Like what?”

“Like you used to look at me. Like you thought I hung the moon and the stars.”

“I did.” They hadn’t had much time together during their relationship, only stolen moments when he could get away for a day or two, and one memorable trip to Cancun when he had been on leave. That was right before it all fell apart. Right before he found out who she was.

Celeste Harper was a bit of a pampered princess.

He’d always known that, from the first time she’d walked into a nameless bar in the depths of Mexico City—a place she never should have gone. She’d gone out slumming, he supposed. When Celeste decided to do something, she did it right. She’d gone into that bar with her bodyguards, unconcerned with their disapproving looks and she’d sat right down, ordered herself a margarita.

Not too many men had dared approached, not with the bodyguards standing so close. Ethan, had he been wise, would have steered clear of her, too. If he’d been the smart guy he was supposed to be, he would have known she was trouble—a princess didn’t belong in a seedy little hell hole like that, especially one who wore a white silk dress that cost more than most people made in a month.

Hell, in Mexico, that dress probably cost more than most people made in a year.

She’d had two shadows at her back, but paid them so little attention Ethan had decided she was used to having silent bodyguards.

The bodyguards—shit. Even if he had been too dazed by Celeste, he should have taken a look at the two of them and run in the other direction. But he had glanced over and figured he knew why she had them. Princesses didn’t leave their castles without a couple of knights to watch over them. Instead, he had looked, wanted…taken. It wasn’t until much later that he realized who she was.

“Celeste Harper” was actually “Celeste Harper Jeffers,” the only daughter on Paul Jeffers. Although Ethan didn’t personally know the man, he’d heard of him; a drug lord whose specialty lay in creating derivatives of the date-rape drug, rohypnol.

Celeste had no idea about this.

Until Ethan had told her.

∞

He shouldn’t still look that perfect, Celeste thought, more than a little disgusted at the way her body was reacting to him. It was like she was twenty-two all over again—that naïve little fool—and caught up in his spell.

“You never thought I hung the moon and stars,” she said, keeping her voice low and level when all she wanted to do was scream.

Lids lowered over his disconcertingly pale eyes, shielding them from her. He didn’t say anything, but that wasn’t a surprise. Ethan had never been one for explaining himself, or trying to convince people to listen. He said what he needed to and if people listened, fine. If not, he didn’t give a damn.

He’d tried to convince you. And he did give a damn…

He’d come to her. Asked her to come away with him. But she hadn’t heard a word he said. Hadn’t listened. Hadn’t wanted to believe. At the time, she couldn’t have believed him. She could admit that much now. Still, he hadn’t cared that much. If he had, he would have stayed, would have come back—

You pushed him away!

Shut up, she told herself. That quiet voice, even after all this time, tried to insist that Ethan hadn’t done anything wrong, that it had been a weird quirk of fate that had brought them together.

Just walk away. That was what she needed to do. Desperately. Walk away from him, get back on the bus and head back home. Of course, she didn’t really know where home was.

It certainly wasn’t the small house in Mesquite where she was currently living. She’d been there the past four months and was planning to move soon. Where, she didn’t know. All she did was wander now, living off the money left from her mother. Roaming mostly throughout the state of Texas—never once returning to Mexico. She loved it, but she couldn’t go back there. Never again. It wasn’t home, couldn’t ever be again.

No place was home. Not anymore.

Not for ten damn years, ever since she’d realized the truth.

Ever since Ethan had told her the truth…and shattered her life.

Watching him from under her lashes, she tucked her knife back inside her boot. There had been a time in her life when she never would have known how to handle the blade, but the past ten years had taught her a lot of things. She just wished some of those lessons would have included things like how to deal with seeing Ethan again.

She spent a few seconds smoothing out her jeans, and wished she could do something about the way her hands shook or her heart raced at the sight of him.

Slowly, she straightened and stared at him. For the past ten years, she’d wondered how she’d feel if she saw him again. What it would be like to look at the man responsible for shattering everything she’d valued in her life. She’d clung to the notion that if she ever did, she’d pummel that perfect face of his bloody.

The bottom of her stomach gave out on her as she realized something.

She didn’t want to beat him bloody. She didn’t want to shriek, yell, punch. She wanted throw herself at him and feel those arms come around her, feel him tangle his fingers in her hair and pull her close. She wanted to hold him, wanted him to hold her.

This wasn’t a man she could blame for the death of her father.

This was the man she’d fallen in love with…the man she still loved. The man she missed.

Oh, no.

This is bad, bad, bad…

Setting her jaw, she crossed her arms over her chest. She bit the inside of her cheek. She made herself think about how terrible the first few years of her life had been after she learned about her father. She dredged up every bad memory that she could link to Ethan’s existence.

Nothing was working. She still wanted to run to him.

Desperate times called for desperate measures.

Baring her teeth at him, she asked in a cool tone, “So…was it you?”

Ethan cocked a brow at her. “Pardon?”

“Was it you? Are you the one who killed my father?”

The only reaction she saw was the faintest flicker of his eyelashes. His face never changed, no anger, no guilt, no surprise showed in his eyes. Nothing.

“I wasn’t involved with anything connected to Paul Jeffers,” he said. Then he lifted a brow and inclined his head. “Well, except for you. I was connected to you. That ended the day we ended.”

Was he lying? If he was, would she even be able to tell? She narrowed her eyes and watched him closely, looking for…she didn’t even know what. What did she expect to see? A glaring red sign that read: I’m a liar. Or maybe one that said: Yes, I did it. I killed him. You’re right to hate me.

Except she didn’t hate him. Damn it. She wanted to. Why couldn’t she hate him? And why couldn’t make herself not believe him?

“Not involved,” she echoed. “Exactly what does that mean?”

“Just what it sounds like.” His pale gray eyes held hers. “I had nothing to do with it. I didn’t know it was going down. I didn’t even know he’d died until it was on the news.”

Celeste swallowed. To her horror, she realized her eyes were burning—she was so close to crying. So close. Blinking back the tears, she looked away from him and muttered, “Well, maybe that counts for something.”

Ethan sighed. “It shouldn’t count for anything.” He came forward, edging around her. He passed so close she could feel the warmth of his body, so close she could smell the warm, vaguely exotic scent of the sandalwood soap he still used.

Was she imagining it or did he lightly brush the tips of his fingers over her hair?

“Good-bye, Celeste.”

Good-bye?

Narrowing her eyes, she spun around and glared at his retreating back. “Excuse me? Good-bye? You show up here after ten years and all you have to say to me is good-bye?”

He glanced over his shoulder at her, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his hard mouth. “What else do you want me to say, Princess?”

Princess—damn him. That name conjured too many things. Memories of nights when he’d held her and called her that very name. Memories of him whispering that as he made love to her.

“How about sorry? How about an explanation for why you’re here? Something.”

“You’re a bright woman, Celeste. It’s July 2. You’re always in Belle on July 2.”

Celeste gaped at the back of his head. “You expect me to believe you’re here because of me?”

“I don’t expect anything of you,” he said, his deep, smooth voice quiet and steady, stroking over her like a velvet glove. Then he sighed and pushed a hand through his black hair.

“But you asked for an explanation. So there you go. I knew you’d be here. I wanted to see you. End of explanation.” He turned back to face her, a grimace twisting his lips. “That part’s easy. But an apology? Not so much.”

He watched her with a deep, penetrating stare that made her feel like he could see clear through to her soul. “What should I apologize for, Celeste? I’m sorry you’ve been hurt in this—I can say that. But I can’t apologize for telling you the truth about your father. You needed to know. You were busting your cute little ass in school, making all these plans for how you wanted to help disadvantaged youth, while your dear daddy paid for that education by exploiting women and children.”

She flinched. Shame hit her, a slap across the face. Blood rushed to her cheeks. “You bastard.”

“So you’ve said. Twice already.” A cynical smile twisted his lips and he shook his head. “But that doesn’t explain what you want me to apologize for. I’m not sorry I told you the truth and I’m not sorry that sick son-of-a-bitch is dead.”

“That sick son-of-a-bitch was my father,” she snarled at him. “I loved him.”

“I know.” His voice was gentle, his eyes kind. “And I know losing him hurt you…for that, I am sorry.”

There was sympathy in his eyes, in his voice. Sympathy, understanding…and other emotions she didn’t want to study too closely because it hurt too much. Just seeing his face hurt. Hearing his voice.

“No, you don’t know.” Furious with herself, Celeste snarled, “You don’t have any idea what it’s like to realize you come from a monster—or that you loved that monster. To realize that the monster even loved you back. He loved me. He did everything he could to take care of me, to make sure I never wanted for anything…”

A sob stole her voice.

I can’t do this.

Glaring at him, she backed away. “Stay away from me, Ethan. I don’t ever want to see you again.”

She took off running, barely able to see the ground for the tears that blinded her.

Chapter Two

I knew you’d be here. I wanted to see you.

“Why?” she whispered in the darkness. After ten years, why did he care about seeing her?

Except, she knew she’d cared when she saw him. Even as it hurt, she’d cared. When she’d first glimpsed that dark hair, those wide shoulders, and wondered…Ethan? It had made her heart race. Then he’d turned. And for just a second, joy had flooded her. She’d wanted to run to him. Grab him and hold him and beg him to never leave her again.

Even after ten years.

She wanted to think that after ten years he couldn’t care about her. But a small voice inside, that same one that had insisted Ethan had cared, that he’d tried to convince her to leave Mexico with him, it wouldn’t be quiet.

Maybe he’d been here in Belle after all these years for one very simple reason…he still cared.

Even considering it, though, terrified her.

Sighing, she lifted a hand to the curtains fluttering the breeze, brushing them out of the way as she stared outside. She couldn’t see much of anything but the pale yellow circles cast by the weak streetlights. Their light didn’t do anything to lessen the gloom of the sidewalks and beyond. And although she couldn’t see him, she knew he was out there.

She knew he waited. Knew he watched her.

It was disconcerting as hell to realize that.

Easing the curtains aside, she slipped through the French doors onto the small balcony and stared down into the street. The Belle Inn was the only moderately profitable business in town. It catered to those who enjoyed spending the night in older hotels that had a history of being haunted. With the restaurant and bar attached, it managed to do a decent enough business. She stayed here every year—and hadn’t seen a single ghost.

The Inn had been redone period-style. The room she stayed in probably looked as it had back in the 1800s, with the exception of the air-conditioning and indoor plumbing.

Resting her hands on the painted wood railing of the balcony, she looked for him and tried to pretend she wasn’t. But she knew she was wasting her time. If he didn’t want to be seen, he wouldn’t.

Ethan.

He was out there.

Why?

She’d made herself clear, right?

I don’t want ever want to see you again. Nice, short, to the point.

Except she did want to see him. Man, she’d missed him. So much. Not just the physical stuff, although she’d definitely missed that. She missed him. Missed that slow, almost reluctant smile of his. Missed the way he could sit there and listen to her as though every word she said was somehow vastly important. Missed his easy strength and the way he’d made her laugh with that wry humor.

She missed feeling his arms around her at night, although they’d had precious few nights together.

She just plain and simple missed him.

And now he was out there again…watching her.

Where are you?

And even as she silently asked that question, part of her wondered—Why do I care? Damn it, it’s wrong of me.

Except she knew it wasn’t…this was Ethan.

Because she had to care.

It was Ethan…

“Where are you?”

∞

From where he was, he couldn’t hear the question.

He saw her lips move, but for all he knew, she was up there begging God to strike him down where he stood. Leaning against a crumbled brick wall, Ethan stared at the woman on the balcony and tried to figure out why in the hell he was still there.

She didn’t want him around.

She’d made that fact pretty damn clear.

Still, he’d lingered around the little town and come dusk, he did exactly what he’d done the night before—stood outside her hotel and waited. Just as he had for the past ten years.

When she backed away from the balcony, he let out a sigh that was part relief, part frustration. Relief—because if she wasn’t looking at him, he could almost breathe past the band constricting his chest; frustration—because now it would be another year before he saw her again—if she came back to Belle next year at all.

It had felt like she had been looking straight at him from on the balcony. That look had made it all but impossible not to go to her, even as it made him want to grab her, hold her.

It had been so hard since he’d left her. He missed her. Needed her. Wanted her…

She slipped into the room from the balcony and he waited for the doors to close, for the curtains to fall back into place.

But they didn’t.

The door remained open and the curtains pushed aside.

Almost like she was waiting…

“You need to leave,” he muttered.

But he found himself leaving the alley…crossing the street…

∞

Will he come?

She licked her lips and rolled onto her side, staring toward the door. She hadn’t been prepared for this. The plain T-shirt she wore was nothing like the pretty little lacy things she’d had when they’d first gotten together.

She had nothing better, either. Although she wasn’t completely destitute, the money she had from her mother wasn’t exactly enough to let her go shopping at Saks. Or even Victoria’s Secret.

Cotton had replaced silk and lace. She made do with basic and was fine with it for the most part. But just then, she wished she had better. Because she knew she wasn’t alone any more.

One second it was just her in the room. And then he was there. There was no sound. If she hadn’t been staring at the open curtains so intently, she wouldn’t even have seen the darker shadow before it was lost to the rest of the darkness.

She eased up in the bed and waited.

The only sound was her erratic breathing, but she knew he was in there. She could feel him—a ripple of electricity dancing through the air, his gaze an unseen caress along her bare skin.

Celeste held her breath and waited for him to speak, but the silence stretched on. Her heart raced within her chest and she squeezed her eyes closed, tried to figure out what in the hell she was doing, why she’d opened the door, why she’d left the curtains parted, why she was lying here like she was waiting for him.

It came to her then. She was waiting for him. She had been waiting…ever since she’d been foolish enough to push him away.

She needed him. He needed her.

And it was all so very clear, clear as daylight. Clear as the longing she’d seen in his eyes. The same longing she’d felt echoed in her own. Longing…for him.

She was waiting. From the time he’d walked away, even as part of her wanted to hate him, she had been waiting for him to come back.

She’d needed him to walk away at the time—hell, she’d pushed him away. He had to go before she did something, said something, she could never take back. She’d needed the time to come to grips with who she was—who her father had been. After he’d died, just a few short weeks later, she’d needed the time to grieve.

She’d needed the time to understand.

To find herself away from her father’s overwhelming influence.

Now, a decade later, she could finally admit something else.

She needed Ethan. She’d needed him almost from day one. She could survive without him, but she didn’t want to just survive.

She wanted life. She wanted to live, wanted to experience the happiness, the peace, she’d known only with him. None of the men she’d allowed into her life had ever measured up to him. No matter how much or how little she’d cared, none of them had ever come close to Ethan. None of them had ever come to close to her heart.

Taking a deep breath, Celeste kicked her legs over the edge of the bed.

He was so quiet…she couldn’t even hear him breathe. So quiet. And her teeth were all but chattering, she was so nervous. She wished he’d say something, but if she tried to open her mouth to speak, she was going to start to babble, and then she’d lose her nerve and she really needed to get this done. Get it over with. If she ended up with a boatload of guilt and self-disgust come morning, so what? It wouldn’t be anything new.

Without wasting another five seconds, she grabbed the hem of her T-shirt and hauled it over her head.

She let it go and as the fabric hit the ground with a whisper, she finally heard something from him.

A harsh intake of breath, followed by the sound of slow, deliberate footsteps, coming right in her direction.

Abruptly, terror seized her and she reached out, blindly hit the light switch on the bedside lamp. A soft golden glow filled the room and she stared at him, blinking against the light.

He wasn’t staring at her face, though.

He was staring at her body—a naked, hungry look. Terror held her frozen. Need churned inside her. Her hands shook and she fisted them at her sides, fought not to cover herself.

“Celeste…” his voice was a ragged, harsh growl, so unlike his normal tone, always so deep and mellow. He lifted a hand and she caught her lower lip between her teeth as he brushed the back of his fingers over the outer curve of her breast.

She caught his hand and pressed it to her. “Come to bed.” She took a step backward, taking him with her.

Heat flared in his eyes, but when she went to lie back, he didn’t come with her. He opened his hand, cupped her breast in his palm, but did nothing else as he watched her. “Why?”

“Because I need it. I need you.”

Ethan shook his head. “No, you don’t. You’ve gone ten years without me in your life. You want me to leave you alone. You don’t want to see me again. So why?”

“If I didn’t want to see you, I wouldn’t have opened the door,” Celeste said quietly. She leaned against him and pressed a kiss to his chest through his T-shirt. She could feel the warmth of his skin, the solid feel of muscle and man through the thin cloth. “If I didn’t want to see you, I wouldn’t have followed you when I saw you on the street earlier.”

Lifting her head, she stared at him through her lashes. Fisting her hands in the worn fabric of his T-shirt, she eased it up. She held her breath when the shirt caught under his arms, wondered if he would stop her, but then he grabbed it and tore it away, hurling it across the room. He caught her arms, keeping a few scant inches between them when all she wanted to do was press her mouth to his chest and lick, suck, bite, nuzzle all that bare, golden flesh.

“I want you.” He pressed his brow to hers, his pale gray eyes boring into her. “I’ve wanted you every day for the last ten years, and I’d damn near sell my soul for this. But not if you plan on walking away in the morning. Or the day after. Or the year after. Walking away from you almost killed me. I won’t do it again—not if this happens.”

The naked need in his eyes wrenched at her heart. So often, she’d looked into his eyes and seen a blank wall—he rarely left himself exposed. Reaching up, she trailed her fingers down his jawline, feathered them over his lips. “I haven’t thought about tomorrow. Or the day after. The year after. I can’t think right now. All I know is that I’ve missed you, even while I tried to tell myself I hated you. I’ve spent the past ten years missing you, too. Spent the past ten years being lonely…and I’m so tired of it. I want you, Ethan.”

“You want me, but do you still love me?”

Celeste stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her naked breasts to his chest. “I don’t think I ever stopped.” She caught his lower lip between her teeth and bit him lightly.

His body shuddered, but he didn’t pull her close. He held still, so very still. Seconds stretched out endlessly—would he pull away? Would he walk away?

∞

Walk away. Ethan knew that was exactly what he should do. Coming to her in the dead of night, without even knowing why, without even understanding what in the hell she was doing—hell, he doubted she knew what she was doing. Just a few hours earlier, she’d told him to stay away and now she stood naked in arms.

Naked.

In his arms.

And he wasn’t doing anything…why?

Fuck it.

He’d figure the rest of it out later. Banding his arms around her, he boosted her slender form up until she could wrap her legs around his waist. “Celeste…” he groaned her name against her lips as he tangled a hand in her hair, tugged.

She tipped her face back and met his kiss, hunger for hunger, heat for heat. Taking her to the bed, he tucked her smaller body under his and settled his hips against the cradle of hers. Through his jeans, he could feel her—warmth and woman…waiting. Waiting for him. Finally. After ten fucking years.

Levering up onto his knees, he tore at the fly of his jeans, swearing as his fingers fumbled with the button and the zipper. His breath hissed out of him. He ached, throbbed. He shoved his jeans and underwear down past his hips. Celeste reached out and wrapped her fingers around his cock, smiling.

The sight of that smile burned through him and the feel of her hand on him was a sweet, sweet agony. Her hair, black as the night, spread around her shoulders and a wicked smile curled her lips as she started to pump her hand, then down. Fuck—

Gritting his teeth, he reached down and wrapped his fingers around her wrist, stilling her movements. “We need to slow down,” he rasped, hating himself even as he said it. “I…shit, Celeste, I don’t have anything with me.”

She tugged against his restraining hold and reached up, sliding her hand under one of the fat pillows crowding the headboard. She pulled out an unopened box of condoms and tossed them to the middle of the bed. “Problem solved.”

His gaze landed on the condoms and then he glanced back at her.

She shrugged, somehow managing to make the gesture look sophisticated, elegant, even as she lay naked on a bed. “I didn’t exactly plan this—had no idea you would be around. But after I saw you…”

“It doesn’t matter,” Ethan said, shaking his head. He dipped down, pressed his lips to hers while fumbling for the box. He tore it open, shredding it in his haste.

Nothing mattered…nothing but her, nothing but this.

He hadn’t been this awkward since he’d been a teenager, he was certain. No. There had been another time. That first time with her. He tore the foil packet open, managed to roll the latex shield down over his aching flesh and then he settled between her thighs, staring down at her.

Endless seconds passed as he stretched his body out and covered hers. Endless seconds as he held himself still, hovering just above her while he stared at her face.

She smiled up at him.

Brushing his lips against hers, he whispered, “I love you. I’m always going to love you.”

Then, without giving her a chance to reply, he crushed his mouth to hers. She groaned into his kiss as he pressed against her. He growled deep in his throat as she yielded to him.

Heat to heat…softness to strength. It was bliss. It was everything. She arched upward against him, a sob catching in her throat. It was the sweetest sound, he was certain. But then she whispered his name, and he thought perhaps that was the sweetest…

Hooking his arms under hers, he caught her head in his hand, held her steady as he kissed her. “I love you,” he whispered. “Always.”

It didn’t matter if she didn’t say it back, he told himself. It didn’t matter. Because he had this, one last night. Something he hadn’t thought he’d have. No matter what he’d said about not letting her go, he couldn’t make her stay if she didn’t love him and he knew it. But he had tonight and he had her.

She whimpered into his mouth even as the slick, wet walls of her sex clenched around him, tight and soft and perfect. Shifting around, he worked a hand between them, using his thumb to tease the hard little bud of her clitoris. A hot, savage jolt of satisfaction burned through him as she clenched even tighter.

Yeah…that was good, too. Sweet, and hot. Another memory.

He’d hoard them, keep them close.

All of this, one last gift. A bittersweet one, he knew.

“Ethan…” she moaned out his name as she came the first time.

She came the second time with a hoarse cry.

The third time, her hand slid from his back to lie limp on the bed. Then, only then, did he let himself go.

Slipping down, he rested his head between her breasts, tried to content himself with the warmth of her body, the ragged sound of her breathing. A night—he’d had one more night. It was something, right?

Then she whispered, “I love you.”

Something…no. Closing his eyes, he knew it wasn’t something. It was everything. She was everything. And he’d lose her. Once more. No matter what she said tonight, she’d walk away from him.

Chapter Three

I’m in hell.

Too fucking hot.

The air was thick, thick with the sounds of screaming voices and the stink of blood. Heavy with death, despair.

I’m in hell…

Something cool touched his face. Stroked his cheek. Warm lips pressed to his. A voice murmured in his ear.

“…wake up…”

Just like that, so easy, he slipped out of hell and into heaven. Opening one eye, he peered up at Celeste. She was propped up on one elbow, staring down at him. Her midnight black hair fell around her shoulders, lay across his chest. Her dark brown eyes gazed at him solemnly.

“You were having a bad dream,” Celeste said softly.

Ethan grunted. Yeah. Bad dream. That might describe it well enough. If one could call a bad dream having a friend turn and sell them out. Four years. It had been four years since that particular nightmare—one of the men in his unit, a guy he’d known for years, had turned traitor. Max Blesset—the fucking bastard was dead, cold in the ground, but it wasn’t enough.

How many nights had he spent reliving that betrayal in dreams?

Too many.

“Are you okay?”

Ethan forced himself to smile. “I’ll be fine.”

But he wasn’t sure he would. Now that he was awake, now that he realized morning had come, fear settled inside. A cold, hard knot of fear that threatened to block his throat.

“You don’t look like you feel fine,” Celeste murmured.

Tangling his fingers in her hair, he shifted in the bed, rolled until he could tuck her body under his. “I’m fine,” he said again, slanting his mouth over hers. He needed her again.

Because in his gut, he suspected she was going to walk away from him now. She’d walk away, and for the rest of his life, he’d live with the knowledge that he would never get over her.

He needed more…he needed always.

He would have to settle for moments and memories. Using his knee to nudge her thighs apart, he settled between her hips. “I need you,” he rasped.

“Then have me.” She pressed her mouth against to his throat as he slowly surged inside. She closed around him like hot, silken perfection. “I’m right here…have me.”

∞

Celeste lay collapsed on his chest, gasping for air. Ethan’s big arms held her close, clutching her tight, so tight she could barely breathe. He held her like he thought she’d slip away.

Working her arms between them, she lifted her head and smiled down at him. But his face was an expressionless mask and Celeste felt something cold begin to work its way through her heart. Her smile wobbled, but she tried not to let it show as she lowered her head and kissed him.

He kissed her back.

But it felt…off.

Nervous, she pressed against his chest and he let her go, let her slip away from him. She felt cold. Grabbing the sheet, she wrapped the tangled cloth around her as he climbed out of bed.

The bright early-morning sunlight fell across his golden body, played over his skin as his muscles shifted.

Mouth dry, she watched as he grabbed his jeans from the floor and pulled them on. “What are you doing?”

He glanced at her. His long, dark hair fell in his eyes, obscuring his features. “Getting dressed.”

“In a hurry?”

He shrugged, lifting one big shoulder before grabbing his shirt from the floor.

The cold ache in her chest expanded, shifted, flooded her. She’d felt like this once before—the day he’d walked away from her after he told her about her father. The day she’d pushed him away.

It looked like he was going to walk again. But this time, damn it, she hadn’t done anything to make him leave. What was going on? Blinking back the tears, she climbed off the bed. Her hands shook. She wanted her clothes, but she doubted she could even manage to pull anything on just then.

She felt sick.

As he put his shoes on, she stood there, watching him. Dazed.

It lasted until he started towards the door. Then the cold exploded into fury. Snarling, she grabbed her shoes from the floor and hurled one of them at him. It hit him square between the shoulders.

“You son of a bitch.”

He reached the door.

Celeste threw the other one. This one hit him in the back of his thick skull. Finally, he paused, reaching up to rub at his head as he looked at her.

“You’re walking away from me. Again.” She hated the petulant whine she heard in her voice. Hated how desperate, how needy she sounded. “You’re doing it again.”

He just stared at her.

Fighting to force the words past the knot in her throat, Celeste gestured to the bed and said, “So if you’re walking away, just like that, what was last night about?”

He lifted a brow. “Sex?”

If she’d had another shoe handy, she would have thrown it at him. And she’d have aimed for his nose—maybe she could break it. “You bastard. So much for that line you handed me about this meaning something.”

“What was it supposed to mean?” he asked, his voice weary, strained.

Celeste didn’t even know how to answer. Turning away from him, she walked to the balcony and slipped outside. It was hot—even though it was barely eight in the morning, the sun shone down with burning intensity and the air was thick, humid, and still.

She sucked in a lungful of that sultry air and told herself, I’m not going to cry.

She didn’t believe it, though.

And right up until the door opened at her back and she felt the cool wash of air-conditioned air dancing over her skin, she was perfectly okay with crying. She was entitled, damn it.

“Celeste?”

Dashing the back of her hand over her eyes, she stared straight ahead. The busted roads of Belle were in desperate need of repair, like half of the buildings. But it was easier to look at the eyesores of the poor town than to look at him.

“Just leave, Ethan.”

He laid his hands on her shoulders. Celeste hunched away and when he didn’t take the hint, she moved, putting as much distance between them as she could.

“I’m not leaving,” he told her quietly.

Snorting, she glared at him. “Oh, really? So were you going for coffee just now or what?”

He had the grace to look a little ashamed. “Maybe we can wind the clock back.”

“No need.” She looked away and stared at the barber shop across the highway.

“I don’t want to leave.”

“Oh, puh-leeze.” Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. “If you didn’t want to, you wouldn’t have rolled away less than a minute after you made love to me, while you were still wet from me. You wouldn’t have gotten dressed and headed for the door while I was still struggling to catch my breath.”

“I didn’t want to—I figured that’s what you would want. Hell, Celeste, you barely know me anymore.”

Slowly, she turned and stared at him. “I know you as well as you know me. But I wasn’t the one heading for the door. That was you.”

A muscle jerked in his jaw. “You blame me for your father’s death.”

“No.” Celeste closed her eyes and sagged back against the balcony railing. Through the thin cloth of the sheet, she could feel the sturdy, solid wood. It felt real, like something she could cling to—and she desperately needed that. Reaching down, she braced one hand on it.

“No. Dear God, there have been times when I’ve hated my father, you know that? Even though I loved him, even though I still love him, a part of me hates him, hates what he was, hates how he lied to me.” Opening her eyes, she stared at Ethan through her lashes and said softly, “I blame for him for his death, Ethan. Him…not you.”

“You say that now.” He stared off over her shoulder, not looking at her. “But practically the first thing out of your mouth was whether or not I had anything to do with it. What would you have done if I’d said, yes…if I had known? Hell, if I had killed him?”

Celeste flinched. She covered her face with her hands. “I just don’t know, Ethan.”

With a terse nod, he said, “Well, maybe you should think about it. I didn’t kill him—I don’t know if it was a sanctioned hit, who did it, nothing.” He took a step closer and reached up, caught her chin in his hand, angled her face up to his. In a low, rough voice, he said, “But I could have done it. I wanted to, once I figured out who he was, and how he’d kept you in the dark all your life. I wanted to kill him, and if I’d had the chance, I just might have done it. So think about that. You don’t really want me in your life, Celeste. Not really.”

He stroked a thumb along her cheek, angled her face up for a kiss. It felt like goodbye. It felt like an ending.

Tears burned her eyes as he turned away.

But she didn’t let him walk away this time. Lunging after him, she grabbed his arm. The sheet she had draped around her gaped and she fumbled with it one-handedly as she glared at him. “That’s my call, Ethan. I get to say whether or not I want you in my life, and damn it, I know what I want. And I don’t want you walking away from me again.”

Her voice broke and she reached up, touched her fingers to his cheek. “I don’t want you walking away, Ethan. I’ve been so damned empty without you in my life.”

She trailed her fingers over his mouth, felt the hard, chiseled lines, committed them to memory. Then she made herself take a step back. “I know what I want. But I’ll be damned if I chase after you. It’s your call…if you want me, you come looking for me.”

She left him standing on the balcony and locked herself away in the old-fashioned bathroom. Struggling not to cry, she turned on the water and let claw-footed bathtub fill. The sound of running water echoed in the small room and she sniffled, giving in and letting one ragged sob escape.

There was more sadness trapped inside. But she couldn’t give into it. Not yet. She needed to get cleaned up, get the smell of his skin off of her body, and then get the hell out of there. Once she was on the road back to Mesquite, she’d give in, then she’d cry. Then she’d grieve.

But not yet.

She let the sheet fall to the floor and climbed into the tub. Water sloshed against the rim as she settled back. It was hot, almost too hot, but the temperature wasn’t doing a damn thing to penetrate the icy shell around her heart.

She was so cold. So cold…

Heaving out a sigh, she leaned back in the tub. “Don’t think,” she told herself.

It was how she got through that first year after Ethan had left her. It was how she’d gotten through her father’s death. Denial—it was her friend. “Don’t think.”

Abruptly, the water cut off.

Startled, she opened her eyes, staring at Ethan through a cloud of steam. Instinctively, she drew her knees to her chest, shielding herself from his gaze. But he was looking at her face. Only at her face. He knelt by the side of the tub and reached out, fisted a hand in her wet hair.

“What?” she demanded, defensively when he did nothing more than stare at her and toy with her hair.

He still didn’t say anything. He reached for her and hauled her to her knees, slanting his mouth over hers and kissing her. Water dripped from her body and hair, soaking his T-shirt, dripping down onto his jeans.

Celeste tore her mouth away and glared at him. “Don’t do this to me, Ethan. I can’t handle this roller-coaster ride, not if you don’t know what in the hell you want.”

“I’ve always known what I wanted,” he said. “You. Just you.”

“Yes, as evidenced by you walking away from me. Twice.”

“I know what I want,” he said, his voice low and rough. “But that doesn’t mean I think I can have it. Damn it, Celeste, I barely survived walking away from you.”

“Then why did you do it?” Celeste demanded, arching her back and trying to put some distance between them.

Ethan just tightened his hold. Gray eyes flashing, he glared at her and said, “Because it was the right thing—for you. I’d ruined your life.”

“No.” She shook her head. “No, you didn’t. That wasn’t my life. It was a lie, one my dad made for me. That’s not the kind I wanted then, and it’s not the life I want now.”

“What kind do you want now?”

She gave him a bitter smile. “Haven’t you been listening? I want a life with you. I don’t know much more than that, but I want it with you.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. His eyes, dark and stormy, stared into hers, so deep, so intent, as though he was trying to see clear through to the other side of her soul. “Celeste…”

She leaned in and kissed his throat. Her heart raced in her chest, soaring high, then crashing to her feet. “If you really walked away because you thought it was the right thing to do, then so be it. I don’t like it, but I understand…I think. And besides…remember, I didn’t exactly give you a choice. I wanted you gone—I was rather insistent on that. I needed time. Now I’ve had it. And it’s up to us to decide where to go from here. Now we both have a choice. I’ve made mine…and I chose you.” Leaning in, she pressed her lips to his ear and murmured, “Make the choice, Ethan. Choose us this time. Us. Not me. Not you. Us.”

He didn’t say anything out loud.

He just kissed her.

But this time, when he kissed her, it wasn’t goodbye. It didn’t feel like an ending.

It felt like a new beginning.

Look for other titles by Shiloh

The Barnes Brothers

Wrecked

Razed

Busted

Contemporary Standalone Titles

Beg Me

Tempt Me

Beautiful Scars

A Forever Kind of Love

Playing for Keeps

No Longer Mine

The Ash Trilogy

If You Hear Her

If You See Her

If You Know Her

The Secrets & Shadows Series

Burn For Me

Break For Me

Long For Me

Deeper Than Need

Sweeter Than Sin

Darker Than Desire

The FBI Psychics

The Missing

The Departed

The Reunited

The Protected

The Unwanted

The Innocent

And more

About

Shiloh Walker has been writing since she was a kid. She fell in love with vampires with the book Bunnicula and has worked her way up to the more…ah…serious works of fiction. She loves reading and writing anything paranormal, anything fantasy, and nearly every kind of romance. Once upon a time she worked as a nurse, but now she writes full time and lives with her family in the Midwest. She writes romantic suspense and contemporary romance, and urban fantasy under her penname, J.C. Daniels. You can find her at Twitter or Facebook and read more about her work at her website. Sign up for her newsletter and have a chance to win a monthly giveaway.