Breaking Away (35 page)

Sam picked up the phone for the third time, then laid it back down. With Joy asleep, she could now follow through with the self-defense moves Tim promised to show her. But every muscle in her body seemed to have tightened into one big knot. She knew with certainty Tim wasn’t going to hurt her. But what if her post-traumatic stress decided to kick in?
Like it wasn’t already?
She ran her hands over her face.

As a soldier, he’d understand and help her handle it. She repeated those few things over and over like a mantra until her anxiety level lowered a notch.

She took up the phone again and dialed the number. “I have Joy down for the night, if you still want to come over.”

“I’ll be right there.”

At his tap at the door, she looked through the window. Nervous tremors shook her arms and legs. Her breathing came in ragged gasps. She opened the door to let him in, then backed away as he stepped inside.

Tim didn’t offer to come any further into the room, but remained just inside the door.

“We don’t have to do this, Sam. We can just sit on the couch and watch television and talk.”

She grappled to regain her composure and forced her breathing to a slower pace. “I need this. The more control I take, the more control I have.” She fisted her hands at her sides, her fingernails digging into her palms. The little flashes of pain gave her something else to focus on. “I’m not going to freak out.”

Tim’s handsome, even features settled into grave lines, his eyes darkened to gray-blue. “I’d rather cut off my arm than make you afraid of me.”

She swallowed back the surge of anxiety that threatened to close her throat and wreaked havoc with her heart. “You’re not.” She focused on him instead of the suffocating sensation, taking in the blueness of his eyes, the strong, angular shape of his jaw, the tense line of his lips. She’d tried so hard to be strong around him so he wouldn’t see her as a victim. And now she was undoing all of that by being a weak ninny.

Tim offered his hand and she grasped it, her palm gliding over his slightly callused skin. His touch seemed to ground her. She drew her first un-constricted breath.

Though the smile she offered him was shaky, it relaxed the watchful control in his features. “Do you have any slow dance music in the house?” he asked.

“I think Gran has some Patsy Cline CDs around.”

“Go get them.”

Reluctantly, she released his hand and wandered over to the entertainment center, opening the cabinet doors. She withdrew a stack of CDs and carried them back to him. He chose one and handed it back to her with a smile. “Number three is one of my favorites.”

She smiled as she read the title. “What does self-defense have to do with music?”

“Go put it on and I’ll show you.”

She crossed the area rug to the CD player and put the disk in. The mellow tones of Patsy Cline’s voice filled the room singing her hit song ‘Crazy’.

“Turn your back to me,” Tim instructed.

To hesitate would only make him think she didn’t trust him. She turned. The heat from his tall frame caressed her back, though he didn’t crowd too close.

He rested his hands on her shoulders, his touch light. “Just listen to the music for a minute, focus on the beat. Part of fending off an opponent is being centered and balanced. It’s not much different from dancing. So what I want you to do is brace your feet apart and sway back and forth until you get a feel for when you’re at your steadiest.”

Sam closed her eyes and did as he said. The music soothed her. The remainder of her anxiety slipped away. She felt steady inside. She shifted her stance until she was just as certain of her balance.

Tim moved around to face her, his gaze searching.

“I’m good now.”

He nodded, the movement brief. “Several parts of your body can be used as a weapon. Head, hands, elbows, knees, and feet. And several parts of your attacker’s body can be your target. Eyes, ears, mouth, nose, throat, stomach, groin, knees, ankles, and toes. The key is not to be afraid to go after them with everything you have.”

Could she do that? Go after someone with no holds barred? Her non-aggressiveness might be what allowed Will to target her in the first place.

Sam shifted her weight, and nodded. “I can learn to be aggressive. I’m not going to be a victim ever again.”

“Good.” Tim smiled. “This won’t come easy to you. You’ll have to practice after you get the hang of it.”

He demonstrated how to use her hands like weapons, using her fingers, thumbs and palm to do damage to the face, ears, and throat. Next he showed her how to use her hand like a hammer instead of a fist.

“Once you have your opponent disabled you run like hell to safety. Don’t allow the adrenaline in your system to make you too bold. You’ll be tempted to stick around and exact some payback, but when you’re facing someone bigger than you, it’s better to live to fight another day. Just get the hell out of there.”

“Is that what you did?” she asked.

“Not always, and there were times I regretted it. Especially when I was younger and on the street.”

She caught her breath. “Tim—”

He shook his head and looked away. “A lifetime ago. I was lucky. I picked the pocket of the wrong guy, and after he shook me so hard he damn near made my teeth rattle, he and his wife took me in. I’ll tell you about it sometime. Right now we’re concentrating on you.”

But she didn’t want to concentrate on herself. She wanted to know as much about him as he’d guessed about her.

When he moved around behind her again, she remained relaxed. “I’m going to put my arm around your neck,” he warned. His chest brushed her back as he stepped close. “See the way this muscle is divided in my forearm?” He raised his arm, his other encircling her as he pointed out the division in the well-developed muscle. “There’s a nerve there that’s particularly open to pain. Especially if you shove your beautiful, sharp chin down into it. To be certain you inflict enough pain to get the attacker to release you, loop your hands behind your head and force your chin down into that groove.”

With his arms encircling her, Sam couldn’t break away from the sense of safety and caring surrounding her. But she wanted more. She gripped his arm with both hands and leaned back to rest her head against his shoulder.

The CD clicked off.

For a beat, then two, Tim remained still. He shifted his weight and aligned his body with hers. He lowered his arm to encircle her upper shoulders and hold her. His other went around her waist, and his hand splayed against her abdomen. He caught his breath and rested his chin against her hair, the warmth of his breath caressing her ear. She shivered.

“You’re losing focus.” His voice held a husky note it hadn’t had a moment before.

With his body pressed so firm and masculine up against her from behind, and his hand resting so familiarly on her belly, tantalizing tremors worked their way through her lower limbs. A wonderful, empty ache settled between her legs. She fought against the urge to push her hips back against him.

Swallowing to relieve the sudden dryness of her throat, she said. “I think I need some time to digest everything you’ve shown me so far.” She turned to look up at him. Her gaze snagged at the masculine angle of his beard-darkened jaw, then his lips, no longer tightened in concentration but parted. When her gaze finally rose to meet his, his hand curved around her hip, his thumb resting along her pelvic bone, sending jets of sensation downward to tempt her.

A flush rode the crest of his cheekbones. His eyes darkened, his pupils expanded, leaving a rim of cerulean blue electric with emotion. The hot, slumberous desire she read on his face stole her breath. Her body clamored for her to turn against him, guide him between her legs and let nature take its course.

But those fierce moments of anxiety she’d experienced earlier lay too fresh in her mind. When they made love she didn’t want fear to have a part in it. “How about some ice cream?” she managed, her voice dwindling to a whisper.

Tim’s throat worked as he swallowed. He drew a deep breath. The tension in his body relaxed by degrees, and a wry smile tilted his lips. “Sure. I could use something to cool me down.”

Will breathed in the scent of perfume and smoke that lingered on the woman beneath him. How many times had he told Carla to shower before he came over? He’d remind her with a belt or two after he got his rocks off. He pumped away like a piston, and Carla panted his name and wiggled beneath him. With one final thrust, and grunt, he climaxed and found a small outlet for some of the rage still smoldering inside him. It was either sex or beat the crap out of something. Carla was handy and willing. She was always willing—for him.

He rolled off her and lay on his back to catch his breath. Carla curled against his side and once again he smelled the cigarette smoke in her bleached blonde hair.

“Why haven’t you showered yet?” he demanded.

“I just got home before you showed up. And you didn’t call to let me know you were coming.” She rubbed a hand across his chest. “We can take a shower together if you like.” She pressed her breasts against him and rubbed.

“Maybe in a few minutes. I have something for you.” He pulled his arm from beneath her and reached for his wallet on the nightstand. He extracted a credit card and handed it to her.

“What’s this for?” she asked, a frown puckering her brow. “This has your ex-wife’s name on it.”

“Yes, it’s her credit card. I never canceled it after the divorce. He shrugged. “The bills still come to me. I want you to go out and have a good time with it. I want you to get your hair done, professionally, not that home, bottled crap.” He gave a strand of her long hair a tug, careful not to be too rough, and smiled. “And get some new clothes and shoes. Now that I’m rid of her, you’re the only woman in my life, and I want to take care of you in style.”

“But if I sign her name it’ll be like I’m pretending to be her, won’t it?”

“As long as I pay the bill, honey, the credit card company doesn’t give a shit. Just sign her name and get what you want. Spend a couple thousand on clothes, shoes, all the crap women like, and whatever it takes at the salon. You can start first thing in the morning.”

Carla studied him for a moment her lips pursed.

In a way she was as pretty as Sam, though her hair wasn’t naturally blonde, and she always seemed to have roots showing. Her lips were full, and she could do things with her mouth, Sam never enjoyed doing for him. Her blue eyes could pass for green in a certain light. Where Sam’s body was slender and sleek, Carla’s breasts were much larger. Thanks to the plastic surgery he’d paid for. While Sam had been in the hospital giving birth to Joy, Carla had been just a floor below going under the knife to have her girls, as she called them, enhanced. He’d visited her right after Joy was born. Every time he thought about it, he wanted to laugh at the irony.

“I really am the only woman you’re with now? You’ve finally given her up?”

“Yeah. I spent seven months behind bars because of that bitch. I’m tired of all the legal crap. I’m over her.” Never. But payback would be so satisfying.

“Oh, Will!” She wiggled on top of him and showered his face with kisses. “We’re going to be so happy.”

He laughed as if he agreed and ran his hands down her back and over her ass. Carla’s ass was one of her best features. It was tight and narrow. With the boob job, her body was a little top-heavy, but her figure gave her an edge over the other attendants at the casino where she worked. Men looked at her and thought big tits and a tight snatch. What more could any man want?

“There’s just one thing you have to do for me.” He cupped the underside of her breast and gave it a squeeze.

“What? Anything.”

“I want you to give up sucking on those cancer sticks.”

“I’ve tried to quit smoking. You know I have.” A whine crept into her tone. “It’s really hard for me.”

“Yeah, I know. But if you love me, you’ll do it. It’s the one thing I can’t stand. I want to be able to smell you and your perfume when I hold you.” And if he noticed cigarette smoke on her clothes, other people would. Sam didn’t smoke.

Her mouth settled into a pout. “Okay. I promise.”

“You can go to the doctor and get some of that medication they’re always advertising to help you quit. I’ll even pay for it.”

“Okay.” She bent her head and kissed him. “How about that shower now.” She nibbled his ear, and slid a hand down between them to stroke him. He grew hard. “If you’ll wash my back, I’ll make it worth your while,” she breathed.

He grinned. “I’m up for it.”

CHAPTER 27