Redeem My Heart (16 page)

“Yes, you have said exactly that.” Ryland tilted his head to the side in that wry manner of his. Fallon tested the restraint of material on her wrist, finding he’d secured it tightly enough. “I wonder…how long would it take you to come this way?”

That sent a spear of dreaded sensual agony through Fallon at the thought of being kept on edge like this indefinitely. Her body couldn’t reach orgasm this way and he damn well knew it. He was stringing her along, causing her to walk on a tightrope but never quite able to fall. She felt a drop of her cream roll down her inner thigh, where the fabric of his pants must have soaked it up. What more did he want from her? She’d surrendered.

Fallon closed her eyes, blocking out his brown inquisitive eyes and the small lift of his lips. She tried to even out her breathing but was unsuccessful. Her clit was swelling underneath his touch and only one solid stroke was needed to send her over the edge. He refused to do that, keeping her in a suspended state of endless stimulation with no relief in sight. What he did do was gently place a finger on either side of her clit and start long gradual strokes that caused her to moan out loud.

“So passionate.” Ryland continued to talk over the ringing in Fallon’s ears. She was on the precipice with no way over the edge. He wasn’t offering her his hand, he wasn’t aiding her, and he certainly wasn’t pushing her. She needed so much more. “My little savior.”

“I’m not your savior, Ryland,” Fallon said harshly, grabbing what she could to keep her body from the torturous hedonism. “I’m a woman who needs you to satisfy her. If you can’t do that then I’ll do it myself.”

Fallon cried out when Ryland pressed on her clit and stroked her hard. Her body tightened until it exploded outward, sending the penetrating orgasm throughout her being. She screamed his name over and over, drowning in the pleasure he was giving her. She even tried to rise up on her knees to prevent too much stimulation, but he wouldn’t allow her to escape. By the time he was through, she was literally drained of any vitality and leaned forward until her head was on his shoulder.

No words were spoken. Instead, Ryland tentatively wrapped his arms around her and held her close. The reason for his reluctance wasn’t breaking through the fog of fulfillment. His warmth was what she craved and she took it without thought. She snuggled closer, enjoying the intimacy that both of them usually avoided. His lips moved against her ear, his rich resonating voice warning her of the line she’d just crossed.

“You called me Travis, darling,” Ryland murmured, tightening his hold on her. “I didn’t think I’d care what you called me, but I was wrong. You need to know this, Fallon…Ryland is the man who gave you what you needed just now.”

Fallon summoned the drive within her and somehow managed to move to the side, her hands still tied behind her. She began manipulating the fabric as she blew at the strands of hair that fell over her eyes, only stopping when he reached out and brushed them away. She didn’t take her eyes off of his to ensure he heard every word she said.

“You’re one and the same. You can’t separate the two no matter how hard you try and when you come to accept that like I have, you’ll finally be at peace with yourself.” Fallon stood, her arms hanging at her sides with her shirt in her right hand. She pulled it over her head, covering her still aroused body and angry with herself that she allowed her baser urges to override common sense. There was no denying the sexual pull they each had toward one another, but this wasn’t the time. She picked up her sweats and panties, walking around the couch. “You might want to research restraints during your free time. This was child’s play by comparison.”

Fallon continued toward the stairs, chastising herself for goading him. Ryland wasn’t a man to taunt with words unless she could handle his reactions. She’d barely survived the past hour, especially knowing exactly how much time had passed from her glance at the clock on the wall. She didn’t doubt that he would collect his toll.

Fallon walked up the stairs on still trembling legs and to the room she’d chosen, once again finding Ryland’s bags next to hers. She wasn’t sure why he was doing that, especially when he never joined her in bed. It was starting to bother her.

Her intention had been to take a shower when she heard the distant vibration of a cell phone. At least, that’s what she thought it was. The pulsating sound was coming from one of Ryland’s bags and her heartbeat accelerated at the implication was still using a burner to run his own investigation…or keep ties to his previous life…after what had happened yesterday. It didn’t come as a shock so much as it made her wary of what his plans were.

“You’re not going to at least look at it to obtain a number? Maybe give it to Crest to run a trace? You’re full of surprises today.”

Ryland’s questions didn’t startle her as much as his presence. Fallon didn’t turn around though, not wanting to show him the wariness in her eyes. She’d come this far confident in what she believed in and she intended to see this through, regardless of what others thought of her.

“You’re under the assumption that I didn’t know about your other phones,” Fallon perjured herself, bypassing the bags and closing the distance to the bathroom. She’d just about shut the door when she decided to add on one last falsehood that would either gain her information or leave her totally in the dark. She kept her comment vague enough to keep him guessing exactly what she knew. She didn’t like deceiving him, but it was the only way to help him. “Let me know what your contact has to say. I’ll let you know if he’s telling the truth or leading you off on a wild goose chase, lover.”

Chapter Thirteen

H
e couldn’t move
and not because of the restraints. He had no energy left to fight them off. This wasn’t what he’d signed up for and a small sliver of fear shot through him, yet even that emotion barely emerged. He now felt like a shell of his former self.

It had to be the injections they were giving him. How long had he been in this steel chair? He tried to recall, but couldn’t remember anything past this room in recent memory. Shouldn’t that have terrified him?

“What is your name?”

The nasally voice came from somewhere off to his right, but he was too tired to turn his head. Why was he being asked that anyway? They knew who he was, didn’t they? The question was repeated and he blinked away the sweat that was dripping into his left eye while searching for the correct answer.

“Ryland.”

His voice cracked from the dryness of his throat, causing him to remember that he was thirsty…incredibly thirsty. Wait. His response wasn’t right. Something was off. He closed his eyes tight, doing the same to his hands and contracting his fingers until they were clenched into fists. Why didn’t that seem like the right answer?

“He’s still fighting it.” Who was that? The voice sounded familiar, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. “Give him another injection and then start again.”

He opened his eyes to see a dark shadow looming over him, something shiny in the person’s hand. A stinging sensation materialized in the crook of his arm and vertigo impacted him like a truck. The turning vision caught the identity of…

Ryland sharply inhaled, opening his eyes and searching the room for the person responsible. His fingers were already gripping the butt of his weapon. The fire was still burning, signifying he hadn’t been asleep very long. He scanned the open living space and found nothing out of place. He exhaled the very moment everything came back in that split second. He knew who was responsible for the nightmares that plagued him.

Fallon had been right this entire time—he’d been one of the first round of men and women associated with E.D.A. He was still in the dark, only remembering pieces of information here and there. But he
did
retain some memories of his time under the indoctrination program.

“Ryland?” He didn’t react at the fact that Fallon had surprised him. Her voice came from the bottom of the stairs behind him. He leaned forward on the couch, placing his elbows on his knees as he rested his forehead against his fist to hide his frustration. He didn’t like this loss of composure and he wasn’t quite sure how to handle it. He just needed a minute. “I heard you call out. Did you have another dream?”

Dream? Ryland resisted the urge to laugh at the word she chose to use to define what he went through when he did manage to get some sleep. What had she said? The night terrors must have been triggered by the fact he’d been out of the life for this extended period. He’d been dormant for far too long. He could fix that instantly by taking a contract and fulfilling his end of the agreement. That wouldn’t erase the fact that a group of nefarious men had taken control of his existence without his consent. If he had agreed…there wasn’t any doubt that he’d been misled as to the extent of the program.

“Go back to bed. We can discuss it in the morning.”

It was the only thing Ryland could get out around his clenched teeth. It was as if his body was in physical pain, almost mimicking what he’d been about to receive in his dream. That made no sense, but the image of the person who’d been about to administer the drug appeared in his mind as clearly as a target in his scope. He could have the answers he needed by tomorrow afternoon.

“You can talk to me about—”

Fallon had managed to walk around the sofa, but he couldn’t stand the compassion coming from her when she ran her fingers through his hair in comfort. He didn’t need comfort. He needed resolution, a fix for the treatment he’d been subjected to under their care. He caught her wrist and stood within a fraction of a second, pulling her body up against his.

“I don’t want to talk right now, Fallon.”

Ryland captured her lips and found himself almost drowning in her desire—their desire for each other. He wanted her just as much as he wanted answers, but there was a time and a place for everything. He couldn’t allow her to touch him unless and until he knew who he was. She had somehow become his last beacon of hope…and he didn’t believe in hope as anything other than a desperate emotion. He tore himself away, leaving her standing there while he walked across the room and up the stairs.

“What are you doing?” Fallon called out after him, following closely on his heels. “Ryland?”

“I have something important to take care of.”

Ryland collected his bags, which he always left packed, and set them beside the doorframe. What he was about to do would upset Fallon and while he didn’t desire that, it was the only possible way he could see getting the answers he needed. Things were liable to get dirty…by that, he meant bloody. He was also becoming too close with her, dependent on her for companionship, which only hindered his ability to think straight. It was time he went on his own way.

“I’m not going to let you leave here,” Fallon warned, edging her way into the room and shifting so that she had a good supportive stance. Did she think she could physically keep him here? “You remembered something, didn’t you? Just tell me and we can come up with a solution together.”

“This isn’t some psychological hurdle you can help me with.” Ryland ignored the slight regret at witnessing the flash of pain that appeared in Fallon’s eyes. What she thought or felt shouldn’t matter to him. “I do appreciate what you’ve accomplished so far, but your help is not needed anymore.”

“You’re not leaving here,” Fallon stated with a firm shake of her head.

“You can’t stop me, Fallon. You’ll only hurt yourself by trying.”

Fallon shifted her body slightly to the side, with her right foot planted behind her. Ryland found it almost laughable that she thought she could physically prevent him from leaving this house, but he wasn’t in the laughing mood. He stepped forward with every intention of using whatever persuasive method he needed to when her right leg came swooping behind his. Her hand wrapped around his wrist while she flattened her right palm against his chest. While there were many muscle motions attached to what she’d just done, it appeared to be that in one move she had him flat on his back with her foot planted against his throat. He immediately wrapped his fingers around her ankle with a fleeting sense of combat that immediately faded.