Lost Wishes (6 page)

“Yeah, dude.” He raises his hands, backing up. “I got it.” He shakes his head and stalks off.

“Let’s go.” Not making eye contact, I grab Katie’s hand and start to drag her down the beach.

And I’m waiting for it. With every action, there comes a reaction, and the longer it takes Katie to react to that jealous boyfriend bullshit I just pulled on her, the bigger the blow I know to expect. We hit the road, and to get to my place faster, I take the back way through the alley. It’s dark, quiet, and, apparently, it’s exactly where Katie Rustle decides to blow. She yanks her hand from mine and steps back, hitting the brick wall.

“What’s wrong with you?” She’s breathing heavy, chest rising and falling. “I get that you lost someone you care about, someone you love. But that doesn’t give you the right to be rude, to be a fucking dickhead, and to push everyone who cares about you away.”

For a fleeting moment, I wonder if she’s included in the ‘everyone’ who cares about me. Then, I dismiss it. As if I’ve given this woman any reason to give a shit about me. I won’t dispute that I’m an asshole. But I’m not used to anyone calling me out on it or shoving Hope’s death in my face. I take a step toward her, hands clenching at my sides. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know it’s been three years since your wife died, and while you obviously have no problem fucking anything with two long legs, you can’t even kiss a woman.”

“I’m perfectly capable of kissing a woman. I just don’t want to.” At least, I didn’t until now. That’s the problem. Katie scares me. Besides that, the second that I touch her, Hope will show up. She’ll slip into my head, and for the first time, I don’t want her to. I’d rather she stayed packed away in the boxes down in my basement. I want her as a memory, not haunting my heart. I’m afraid that when it comes to Katie, I won’t want to share her. Not with anyone, including Hope. And the guilt of it is killing me, tearing my insides apart.

“Why don’t you want to?”

I gaze at her. I have no reason to continue this conversation. Like back at Skully’s, I should just walk away. But I can’t. “Fucking,” I say, holding her with my determined glare, “is just fulfilling a need. Kissing, now that’s…”
a betrayal, surrender, and way too many other fucked-up feelings.

“That’s what?” She juts her chin out.

“Intimate.” I step closer. “And I don’t do intimate.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” she says, eyes dropping to my mouth, “intimate.”

I stare at her, knowing deep in my gut that it would be with her. Hell, I haven’t even touched her and seeing her with MacPherson boiled my blood, questioned my integrity, and weakened my resolve. I’ve waited three long years to face Hope’s killer, and I’m not going to throw it all away for a blue-eyed angel begging to fuck me. And she might just want to get laid, but I’m not testing what I feel for her. I’m not taking a chance to find out if it’s about fulfilling a need or more than that.

But then again, I ain’t got it in me to walk away from her, either.

Screw it! I’ll just show her the truth that I don’t need to kiss her mouth to make her feel good. I grab her chin, tilt her head to the side, and lean forward. My lips fall upon her neck, feeling her pulse throb beneath them. Withdrawing from her silkiness, she moans. The sound pulls my mouth back down to her. My tongue slips out for a taste. She’s so damn sweet. I nibble, suckle, and sink my teeth into her flesh. The slight piercing of her skin isn’t enough, though. I need to go deeper. I need to embed myself inside of her.

I trail up to her ear, and whisper, “Now, imagine what that would feel like on the rest of your body.” I pull back expecting hooded eyes filled with desire, acceptance, and surrender. But she doesn’t look at me like all the others, like an object that’s about to fulfill her every fantasy.

And shit! There’s no surrender there, either.

This woman is full of determination. Someone’s brought her to the edge, pushed her over it, and she’s clawed herself back up. She’s not going to stop until she gets what she wants.

“No.” She rests her head against the wall and peers at me from beneath heavy lids. “Now,
you
imagine what
that
would feel like on my
mouth
.”

Damn. I already am, and now she’s challenging it. My heart beats faster. Palms sweat. My cock’s hammering, fighting to get out of my jeans. I want her. I need her. And at this point, I’ll do anything to have her. I shove my knee between her thighs and push it up against her pussy.  A faint cry escapes her, rallying the want inside of me. My sweaty palms hit the cool wall and I lower my head. Nearly an inch away, her mouth taunts me. I take a deep breath, knowing this is going to hurt. Like a newborn colt taking its first step, I press my mouth against her swollen, trembling lips. When we connect, it triggers something powerful and absolute. The electrifying jolt of it runs through the length of my body. I jerk back. It’s hard to breathe and difficult to control the overwhelming emotions slamming into me. I search her. Damn, she’s gotta feel it, too. I go in for another kiss, this time not so apprehensive, and again, when I retreat my entire being shudders with awareness.

Unable to catch my breath or understand what’s going on, I palm her face and gaze into her eyes. Then it hits me. “Fuck, stowaway, I can feel you,” I say over her lips, still trying to get over the surge of sensations working through me. For the first time in years, the numbness is gone. I feel her skin, her warmth, and her touch.

Her mouth tilts back to me, and I grasp the essence she’s offering. I capture her mouth and feed savagely on the life she gives me.

My frantic hands rove her body, and with each touch, I become more alive. I reach her bare thigh and slip my hand up. My fingers slope the soft curve of her fleshy ass. “Dammit!” My cock twitches; she has no fucking panties on. Right now, I’m the only thing standing between us and the thought grounds me. I grip her ass hard. She breaks from my mouth, grabs my shoulders, and lets out the sweetest cry.

“Kiss me.” I grab her hands and place them on my face. Her touch dissolves any wavering doubt left in my head. I need this woman. She’s panting. Her beautiful eyes glisten up at me in the darkness. “Katie,” I bend down close to her mouth, having a problem with seizing my breath. “Kiss me and don’t fucking stop.”

Her palms crush my face, and she pulls me back to her soft lips. Like a crazed, famished beast starving for her touch, the savor of her mouth, and the feel of her against my conscious body, I consume her.  Hell, just the taste of her takes me close to the edge. Problem is that I’m not sure that once I go over the edge I’ll be able to climb my ass back up.

Doing for once as told, she kisses me. Her soft little cries tremble against my lips. And unlike all the rest, ‘cause fact is she’s not like any of them, I ain’t got it in me to be patient. I can’t take my time. “I need to be inside of you. Now,” I say, unsure if the words really just broke from my mouth.

“Take me, Fallon. Take me right here. I need you, too,” she whispers. Her mouth slants over mine, her tongue slipping back between my lips. Her kiss is renewing the energy and the life pulsating through me.

I slide my hand between her legs. “Fuck.” Hot air surges from my lungs. “You please me, stowaway. You’re so fucking ready, so wet. You
do
need this as much as I do.” I reach beneath her thighs and pull her up. Her legs wrap around me and I thrust my hips. My jean-clad cock meets her bare pussy. Shit! I gotta get myself deep inside of her. But three years is a long time to go without the taste of a woman’s mouth, and I haven’t gotten my fill of hers yet.  Her head drops back with a throaty moan. My heartbeat quickens. “Your mouth,” I breathe. It’s keeping me alive and making everything dark inside go away. “I need it.”

Her head lifts, and she finds me. Eyes wild with passion, she palms my face. I should drop my jeans and fuck her hard. Do it right now. But hypnotized by her beauty, I can’t move. Time freezes and every sound turns deaf to my ears. She’s all I see, hear, and feel until thunder breaks through the quiet, and lightning strikes a flash of brightness all through the darkness. Katie’s blue eyes blaze and the heat of them fill me. Fuck, she’s dangerous to my already damaged heart. 

A raindrop falls upon her cheek. It slithers down her face to her neck and dissolves into her flesh. For a second, I feel like that raindrop slowly evaporating into her.

Then as fast as the lightning appears, it just as quickly disappears, and again the darkness consumes everything but me.

I push her against the brick wall, lower my head, and claim her mouth. I devour the taste of her. My feet push into the ground. My fingers dig into her flesh as I grind her against me. With every muscle fully charged by her sweet energy, I drink from her. I’m draining the light from her, demanding it from her mouth. I can’t help myself. I’m so alive.

Afraid to pull myself from the kiss, fearful that I might fracture her light and the darkness will flood back into me, I feed on her. All that echoes in the dark alley are my grunts and Katie’s cries. And there’s nothing more erotic or satisfying than those carnal sounds. Her legs tighten around me. Her hips move faster. Her tongue teases mine. She’s wild and deserves some taming. But I’m wasted.

“Fallon,” she cries out. Her entire body quivers beneath my hands, and I recognize that bittersweet sound.

Fuck! She’s ready. And that knowledge causes me to think about what I’m feeling. What she’s doing to me.  If I put myself inside of her, all the light she’s given to me is gonna explode from the inside out, and the darkness will return. I throw my head back. The stars have deserted the clouded skies. They’ve found their way to me, for I see them, bright and shining.

Wait. What the fuck am I doing? I can’t release myself to this woman.

With my head back, eyes now closed, the rain sprinkles my sweaty face, and then I realize something. Hope… she’s not here. For as alive as I feel right now, she hasn’t come to me, and the fear of it attacks me, strangling my heart.

I lower my head and place my hands on the wall. But unlike me, Katie’s not letting go. Her legs cling tighter around me. I arch my back to look down at the woman who’s fucking with my head. Eyes half-closed, she’s panting.

“Every inch of your body feels so good against me,” I say, unwilling to deny the truth. She’s beautiful, that fucking crushing kind of beautiful.

“Likewise,” she purrs, wrapping her arms around my shoulders with an insolent smile.

“There’s so much more I want to do to you,” I kiss her slender neck, “with my mouth,” I kiss her just below the ear, “my hands, my fingers, and,” a smile slithers over my lips as my eyes meet hers, “just so many other naughty things.” My belt comes to mind. Hell, the possibilities are endless. This obstinate woman desires a firm hand—I see it in her eyes—and that’s something I can give her. “But…” I pause, and the fire in her eyes starts to smolder, as it should. “Tomorrow—” I lean in close, heart pounding hard, reminding me that it’s still beating, I fight not to say what’s about to come out of my mouth, but it must be said “—tomorrow, I want you to get on that helicopter, and I want you to leave here. I never, ever want to see you again, Katie Rustle.”

Chapter Eight

Katie

I roll over in the bed and wrap my arms around the pillow. I inhale Fallon’s erotic scent. I press my nose deeper into the pillow for more, lift my head, and exhale with a long sigh.

Even with my eyes closed, I know the rain hasn’t let up. I hear it beating hard against the window. It started last night, when Fallon dropped me. Not literally, but the man had me in the clutches of his capable hands, and then he just let go.

After his crude comment about never wanting to see me again, he walked me back to his house without a word spoken. He waited for me to get to the door, and then disappeared into the darkness of the storm. I stood there for a few seconds; the rejection waned and my confusion cleared, as I finally understood what happened. Like everyone else, he’s pushing me away. But why? He could’ve taken me in that alley. God knows I would’ve let him. But he didn’t.

And the other thing I can’t get out of my head—what kept me up half the night—was what he said.
“I can feel you.”
Not I feel you, but I
can
feel you, like he was surprised by it. It makes no sense.

I’m glad, though, that he had
felt
me.

Is that why he stopped…had Fallon O’Conner felt a little too much? When you get past the passive-aggressive tension between us, there’s definitely something there.

I blink away the impulsive thought, refusing to go there in my head. I open my eyes and scan the room. A pair of sneakers lies on the floor, as if kicked off there, and one sits on a hand weight. I glance around. Other than a dresser, it’s barren.

The rain hits the glass harder, and I get up. My stomach’s crying for the orange juice and eggs in the fridge. After making myself some breakfast, I take a shower and put on another sundress that Twigs picked out for me. 

I slump onto the plush loveseat, missing my cell phone, laptop, and tablet. I rub my head. Dammit. I have appointments, contracts, and meetings that need attending to. When I spoke to Mr. Lennox yesterday, he told me not to worry about anything and that he’d have Melony manage things until I got back. I like Melony, but I’m not accustomed to brushing my job off onto someone else. I need things done my way, just so. I must maintain order and structure in my life and my job.  This being stuck on some damn island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean is knocking me right off balance. Add Fallon into my perfect equation and everything’s cock-eyed.

A knock on the door pulls my ass up from the sofa. I know it’s not Fallon because he wouldn’t knock to get into his own home. I open the door, and standing before me, dripping from head to toe, is Fallon’s four-foot sidekick.

“Twigs! What are you doing out in the rain?”

“What?” She shrugs. “It’s just water.”

“Get in here.” I grab her by the arm. “You’re soaked!” I close the door. Shaking my head, I grimace down at her, but all she offers is another shrug. “I’ll get you a towel.”