Beneath the Burn (34 page)

“I didn’t have a mother. Just listen.” She leaned back in the chair. “They cornered me in the basement, the backyard, the bathroom, anywhere Linda wasn’t, and tried to bully me into taking off my pants. You know, the
I’ll let you touch mine if you let me touch yours
thing?”

“No.” He ground his teeth. “I don’t know.” His hand flexed and his eyes clouded, so she hurried to the good part.

“I was finding it difficult to fight them off. I could’ve tattled on them, but their retaliation would’ve made things worse. Instead, I made a deal with them.”

“Please tell me this deal did not involve the removal of your pants. How old were you?”

She tapped her lip. “Ten…yeah, I was ten. And the deal was, whoever’s dick I could hit with a rubber band from fifteen paces away would never be able to bother me again.”

He groaned.

“They agreed to one attempt each.”

“Fucking hell, Charlee. And if you missed?”

She grimaced. “He would have unrestricted access below my waistband.”

His hand flew to his hair, tangling and yanking with his fingers. “That was a hell of a risk.” His voice rose. “You were only ten, for fuck’s sake.”

“Calm down. What they didn’t know was I had spent the entire summer collecting rubber bands and shooting them at the bagworms that covered the big spruce behind our apartment building.” She grinned. “I tagged a lot of bagworms.”

His hand dropped to his lap and his lips twitched. “You hustled them.”

Just thinking about it made her smile. “They lined up along the basement wall with their briefs around their ankles.” She let out a happy sigh. “Nothing like watching five hard little pricks shrivel with the delightful sound of snapping rubber.”

He shook his head. “That’s fucked up.”

“I don’t know. I earned their respect, and they never messed with me again.” She laughed. “It’s one of my fondest memories.” She glanced at his lap. “How’s the hard little prick?”

“
Not
little, but definitely shriveled. Thankfully, without a snapping sound.” His mouth descended toward hers.

She angled away, smiling. “Sure you want to do that again?” She pointed at his lap.

“Argh. I’ll be back in a minute.” He stole a quick kiss and jumped from the seat.

She leaned into the aisle to watch his ass flex through his strides. The confident way he carried himself, especially in his tight pants, made her cheeks heat and her body tingle. Good lord, she would have to cool off before she attempted a conversation with Nathan.

Too late. Nathan gave his seat to Jay and headed her way. She took a few calming breaths, looked up and smiled. “Hey.”

He held out his hand. “Give me the gun.”

She flinched. “Why?”

“Because it makes you too brave, too dangerous, and even more of a pain in the ass than you already are.” His hand waited.

Bastard. She yanked her bag from the floor, pulled out the gun, and dropped it on his palm, meeting his glare with one of her own.

Checking the safety, he tucked it in his waistband, dropped into the chair beside her, and rubbed at a scratch on the metal arm rest. Silent seconds ticked by. She told herself she was just letting her arousal dissipate, but he was strangely reserved.

They never had trouble talking to one another, but she’d stirred up a lot of shit in one day, in addition to whatever was going on between her and Jay. Her relationship with Nathan was navigating new territory.

The awkwardness between them ballooned into a heavy pressure in her lungs. Reaching for his chin, she gently turned his face toward her. “I’m not sure when this started, this guilt I’m carrying. I need to know—”

“It’s good, Charlee.”

She lowered her hand. “What’s good?”

“You’re moving on.” He turned sideways in the chair to face her and rested his head against the seatback. “I know you’re still grieving over how you think you handled things with Noah, and I wish you’d stop.”

A violent mess of emotions clogged her throat.

“I’ve looked at things from Noah’s perspective a million times in the past three years. He knew something was up. Hell,
I
knew, even before I took that PI case. He was ignoring all your signals and forcing a connection that wasn’t there. Can’t say I blame him, though.” His eyes flicked to the front of the cabin and back to her. “You’re easy to love, Charlee.”

She stopped breathing and the air chilled the perspiration on her face. “What are you saying?”

Sitting up, he met her with an unwavering stare. “Not what you think I’m saying. I love you, but not like that. You’re my best friend, my sister, and the only family I have.”

The mounting tension seeped from her body and she breathed deeply through her nose. She reached for his fingers and traced his knuckles. “You’re those things to me, too, but I don’t understand why you don’t hate me.”

He stared at their hands. “How the hell could I hate you? You gave my brother what you were capable of giving him. He didn’t die brokenhearted. He died happy.”

She looked away with burning eyes. “He died because of
me
.” Her whisper ended on a croak.

“Bullshit. You didn’t kill him. Salvador did that.”

Grief pummeled her insides, but she kept it bottled, held her expression empty. She would not break down.

He cupped her cheek. “Jesus, I know your face so well. Let it go. Don’t you see? You’ve given me things, too. Without you, I’d be consumed by revenge.” He dropped his hand and looked out the window at the passing clouds. “All those times you suggested we go our separate ways, I considered it. Believe me, I did. I want revenge, and I can accomplish it easier on my own.” His eyes locked on hers. “Protecting you gives me a second chance, a kind of absolution. I didn’t save him, but I can still save you. Call it a self-righteous pursuit to build my hero complex.”

“Oh, please. You’re the epitome of a pure heart. And I’ll tell you the same thing you tell me. You aren’t to blame for his death.”

His lips quirked, but sadness weighted his eyelids. “No. And I sure as hell wouldn’t have left my damn guns in the car that night. Wish I could beat his ass for that.”

Pressure swelled in her sinuses and faded just as quick. It
was
getting easier to let him go.

“I want you to be happy. And if a guitar jockey in slut pants does it for you, who am I to judge?”

She cocked her head. Yeah, the pants definitely did something for her.

“Noah’s happiest moments are kept here.” He tapped her temple. “And I get to relive some of them when they shine through in your smile. I’d like to see that smile more often.”

She tried to give him one, her lips quivering with the effort, and failed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“All I ask is that you don’t close off my part of your life, okay?”

“Never.” She tackled him in a hug, and his arms enveloped her.

He laughed and pulled back to look at her. “You really like the rock star, huh?”

She reclined against the window. “Yeah.” Her smile appeared suddenly and without effort. “You really like the bodyguard, huh?”

A shrug. “She’s a Marine. What’s not to like?”

“Whatever. We both know there’s more to it.”

“Maybe.” His whiskered cheeks crawled to a grin. “We good?”

For the next few hours, they were outside of Roy’s reach, shooting through the air at—What did Jay say?—Mach .80. And she had a date with a beautiful man in a bathroom.

She gave Nathan another effortless smile.

45

“We’re all set then?” Jay nodded at the e-mail on Tony’s laptop, tapping his fingers on his knees, the heels of his sneakers bouncing with his excitement.

“Yes. The machines will be ready in a week, but the customized engravings and the rush job quadrupled the price. Do you want to look over the bill?”

“I don’t care how much they cost. Just make sure she gets them as soon as possible.”

The tattoo irons served him as much as they served Charlee. There was such a thing as wanting something and someone beyond the edge of sanity. He wanted his tattoo completed, but not nearly as much as he wanted the artist. It was an all-consuming desire, unlike any he’d experienced. It lived in his blood and fed on his heart.

“You’re in my seat.”

He looked up to find Nathan glaring down at him. “Everything okay with Charlee?”

“She’s good.” Nathan bent over him, his voice lowering with palpable hostility. “If that changes and I find you’re the reason, I will hollow out your dick with a butter knife.”

Nathan’s protectiveness surpassed Jay’s instinct to defend himself. He made a hell of a trustworthy bodyguard.

“Tell you what.” Jay hardened his tone, punctuated each word with conviction. “If I hurt her, in any way, I’ll cut it off myself and give it to you.”

Nathan straightened, his eyes smiling. “Excellent.” He jerked his chin toward the rear of the cabin. “If you’re done here, I think she’s waiting for you.”

Jay jumped to his feet and turned.

Charlee leaned her back against the lavatory door, hands behind her, laughing at something Laz was saying. Her red hair curled around her toned arms, bouncing with the shake of her head. A pink flush tinted the curve of her cheeks and glowed against her milky skin. Her smile was as full of life as her bright eyes.

Seeing her there, waiting for him, combined with the feelings he had for her, delivered the ultimate in sexual fantasy. He moved toward her, picking up his pace, driven by the memory of her satin skin beneath his fingers. He wanted to kiss every part of her body. Wanted her hands covering every inch of his. What kind of noises would she make as he lost himself inside her?

“Need a condom?” Rio kicked up his feet on the chair across from him. “Or five?”

Jay growled. Knowing his buddies were squatting feet from the bathroom dampened his arousal. He closed the final few steps and captured her gaze.

She half-turned, eyes firmly fastened to his, and fumbled with the door lever.

“I’ve got it.” He nudged her hand away and opened the door.

“I think the couch folds into a bed.” Laz leaned back in the seat, hands behind his head. “Wouldn’t that be more comfortable?”

Charlee looked at the couch and back to Laz. “The couch would be preferable.” She grinned. “For the boring missionary type.” With a snort, she turned and vanished behind the door of the lavatory.

Jay’s body hummed with anticipation as he followed her in and shut the door on the barrage of whistling and laughing. He turned the lock and tumbled into her amused eyes. “You weren’t hoping for discreet, were you?” He brushed a thumb over her upturned lips.

The space was twice the size of a commercial jet lavatory and included a narrow shower stall at one end. She hopped up on the tall vanity counter and lifted a shoulder. “I haven’t had discreet sex in a long time.”

Her monotone statement wrenched the air from his lungs. What the hell was he doing? He couldn’t just screw her like a groupie in a bathroom, much to his erection’s dismay. “Charlee, I’m not going to—” Bang her? Too vulgar. Have sex with her? Too casual. Make love to her? She’d laugh. “—do this with you for the first time in a bathroom.”

Some of the light dimmed in her eyes. “By
this
, you mean slam me against the wall and fuck me until I can’t walk?”

Alarms screeched in his head. So much of her sexual history was tainted with Roy’s abuse. What he didn’t know was if she’d ever willingly given herself to another man for love. He didn’t think so.

He braced his hands on the counter, caging her hips, and leaned over her, his face inches from hers. “That’s the second time you’ve tried to cheapen us with crude language.” He softened his voice, his eyes searching hers. “Why do you do that?”

A swallow nodded in her throat. “You’re right. It’s a defensive habit.” She stared up at him and her expression opened. “I came in here with one expectation. To touch you. Will you take off your shirt?”

The air thinned and his pulse sped up. He was desperate to be wrapped in her embrace, her body, but what if his reaction scared her? “Charlee—”

“You asked me to trust you. I do. Your turn.”

She had asked him to walk to her, to meld with her. His resolution forged, rushing oxygen throughout his body. His blood scorched through his veins.