Stay: Changing Tides, Book 1 (22 page)

“I was.” He scrubbed a hand across his neck. “Fine. I did it because I don’t want you to get hurt. Not on my watch.”

“Here you go babying me again. You expect me to act like one of the team, which I’ve done, but you refuse to treat me like one. Other than to yell at me when you think I’ve done wrong.” She shook her head, and the vanilla scent of her hair took over the aroma of burning wood. “What did I do to deserve your protection?”

“You refuse to protect yourself.”

“Apples and oranges, Captain.” Her eyebrows arched slightly, and he fisted his hands to keep from smoothing the tension away. “I’m perfectly happy with how I take care of myself.”

He grabbed her arms and shook her. Didn’t she get it? She
was
different. If anything happened to her… “Didn’t you see how easy it is for someone to get hurt? My brother didn’t expect to get hurt. Didn’t plan for it.”

She peeled his hands away. “I suppose that’s my fault as well?”

“No.”

“Then why the hell are you so angry with me?”

The well of confused emotion crested and spilled over. Why indeed? He pressed her back toward the couch, unable to stifle the need to be close to her. “Because you being around makes me careless. I was watching you tonight, instead of what I should have been paying attention to.”

Some of the tension left her shoulders. “Whose problem is that, Brack? I can’t be held accountable for your mistakes as well as my own.”

“But you’re the reason I acted carelessly! Because I never know if you’re going to protect yourself.”

“Brack,” her voice dropped. “Tell me one instance, beyond the raft, that my performance put me in danger.”

Brack’s mind went blank. He replayed the calls, the trainings… Fuck. If he ignored what he felt for her, her execution as a member of the team had been exemplary. Somewhere deep inside, he’d known he wasn’t being fair. He asked more from her than anyone should have to give.

She sighed heavily in the silence. “What do you want from me, Brack?”

“I don’t want to worry about you.” No. That didn’t cover it. “I don’t want to care.”

Sadness crept into her gaze. “There’s nothing I can do for you here. You have to make that choice.”

“I know.”

“Then stop caring.” She shrugged, but she refused to meet his gaze. Placing her wineglass on the table, she moved away to stare out the window. “Don’t feel anything. Keep your guilt and anger close rather than being happy. I’m sure it’s much easier that way.”

Easier? Hardly. It was just what he’d lived for so long…

“My guilt keeps me safe, alert.” He followed her to the window, turning her to face him.

“No it doesn’t.” She reached up to caress his cheek. “It keeps you from enjoying life. It’s a crutch. A reason not to feel close to anyone. Something you can hide behind so you don’t have to face the realities that come with life.”

To be questioned about life’s reality was too much. Buried anger erupted, and he looked away to bank the emotion her steady gaze drew to the surface. “Have you ever lost someone you loved? Ever held their cold hand or closed their eyes after you tried to breathe life into them? Ever slept with your grief or suffered the guilt of knowing you took that life with one foolish decision? One stupid moment?”

Tears burned at Abby’s eyes, and she struggled to breathe as the words spilled from his lips. “No, Brack. I haven’t.”

And she didn’t. She couldn’t imagine his pain. And now, with that simple statement, he’d confirmed what she’d suspected. He blamed himself for the deaths of his wife and child.
Why
was the mystery. And even if he explained their deaths, she wasn’t sure she’d ever understand.

He came closer, the fury in his gaze lit from a soul-deep ache she’d accidentally opened. His body shook with emotion, and her anger dissipated. Whatever ate at Brack’s soul couldn’t be laid to rest easily. With this, she could sympathize. Everyone had their own demons. He’d lived with his guilt for a seeming eternity, and it may have only been four years, but the permanent damage was done.

“Then don’t tell me I hide from life. I control it. Until you’ve experienced what I’ve been through, and lost everything, you can’t understand.”

Softer now, her heart breaking, she reached out to touch his jaw. “You didn’t lose everything, Brack. You have a son who’s missed his father. He’s suffered in silence just like you. I have nothing to lose if you push me away, but don’t lose him by refusing to live.”

His eyes were unreadable as he smashed a fist against the wall beside her. “Screw you, Abby! You know nothing about us. Nothing about family. You flit from place to place without connection and yet you stand here telling me in your hypocritical way that I’m detached? That I hide from life?”

She’d been happy that way too. Until she’d met Brack. Now, her own words from only a moment ago came back to haunt her. She’d accused him of using his past as a crutch. Wasn’t she using her mother as the same? It had always been easier to walk away. But this time, she wasn’t so sure.

“It doesn’t bother me to be detached,” she lied. “I don’t force it on others or make them bend to my rules to control everything around me. I’m hurting no one but myself. You’re so busy keeping everything in order that you have no idea how to live.”

“Until you came along and turned everything upside down, I did.”

The harsh edge of anger melted away under that one whispered statement and he turned into her caress, kissing her palm.

“Your world has been turned upside down for years and now it’s all settling back to rights.” She shivered, wondering if she was talking to herself more than him. “That panic you feel is all the pieces falling into place.”

He looked away, his throat working as his chest moved with slow, measured breaths. She pulled him closer, needing to touch him. His return embrace was rough. He said nothing, just held her and she would have given anything to be inside his mind, even for a moment.

She ran a hand through his hair, twirling her fingers around the soft waves. “It’s terrifying,” she admitted, knowing it was more her own confession.

He settled into her touch, the tiny turn at the corner of his mouth alleviating some of the tension. “How’d you get so smart?”

“Born gifted?” Heat poured through her veins. She’d never wanted a man with such incredible hunger. Even in the face of their constant disagreements, something inside her broke free when he stepped into her sphere. “I’ll be the focus of your anger. Willingly, if it will help you purge this guilt. But I won’t be your scapegoat or your justification for continuing to be such a control freak when I’ve done nothing wrong.”

His fingers shifted along her side, flexing into her hip. “You scare me, Abby.”

God, would he not leave it alone?
“Why do we keep coming back to that?”

He chuckled, his fingers slipping around to her back. “Not like that. The way I feel when I’m with you.”

“Oh.” What more could she say? What did she dare to say when her time with him was almost over? Her mother’s call had cemented the fact.

Hadn’t it?

Of course it had… She’d run from enough towns to know leaving first was easier. On everyone. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Then don’t say anything. I’d rather have nothing than a lie.” He leaned closer, his lips a breath away from her own until each soft exhale brushed the sensitized skin of her cheek. “I don’t know why you have to leave, but if we only have a short time together, I’d be happier spending it enjoying each other, rather than arguing.”

“Me too.” She meant those two words more than anything she’d ever said. “I’m beginning to think it’s not possible, though.”

“Enjoying each other, or not arguing?” he teased.

“I wouldn’t think enjoying each other would be in question.”

“So you don’t deny wanting me?” He pressed closer until her palm rested against his chest.

If he could feel the intensity of need that pulsed through her, he wouldn’t be asking. “No. I won’t deny that. I’ve replayed that night over in my mind so many times, I don’t dare to imagine the number.”

His smile broadened. “Good.”

“Is it?” She stepped back until her back pressed to the wall.

“Abby, you’ve got to stop analyzing and controlling everything. You’re kind of ruining the moment.”

Every muscle in her stomach contracted under his soft chuckle, and when he bent to take her lips, she gave over to temptation. Hot and hungry, he kissed her deeply, setting an undulating fire inside her belly, his hands working her shirt up to trace the skin beneath. Desire drenched her blood, his body so hot and ready against her own it created a dizzy spiral that threatened her ability to stand.

She wound her arms around his neck, wanting to touch him, his heat, his skin. She broke away from the blissful taste of his lips and fastened on the pulsing beat at his neck. “Brack.”

They’d never make it to her room, but he just couldn’t bring himself to care. Nothing mattered in that moment save for the feel of her skin against his. He needed her. Later, when they’d slaked the burning lust that erupted between them with the slightest touch, he’d take his time. Maybe then he’d be able to think. But right now, she needed him as much as he needed her.

He tugged her shirt free, pulling it over arms she lifted willingly. Her hands roamed his body in a greedy pattern that matched his own. Every touch, caress and slight pull of her nails over his skin heightened the need raging through him.

He slid her pants down, kissing the column of her throat to enjoy her ragged breaths before moving lower to the smooth mounds of her breasts. He sucked at her nipples through her flimsy bra, the barrier of material a tease to her taste. With impatient fingers she unlatched the bra and pulled him back to her heated flesh.

He left her breasts to savor the expanse of her belly and knelt to nuzzle the trim curve of her hip. Touching and tasting her nearly drove him mad, his body hard and ready for the pleasure her moans and sighs promised. He wanted to stand, to bury himself inside her. Wanted to hear her call his name again as her slick body welcomed him.

“I need you.”

“Yes.” She panted the word, gripping at his shoulders until her nails bit into his skin.

He pulled her pants free and lifted her against the wall. Wrapping her legs around his hips, he shifted against her until she gasped. Then she was reaching between them to find the buckle of his belt. Her fingers brushed his skin as she worked his zipper open, tugging at the material with rough hands.

And then she touched him, his erection pulsing in her palm with such force he dropped his head to her shoulder. “Christ, Abby.”

She smiled, meeting his hungry kiss. “We need protection.”

“Wallet,” he rasped. “Back pocket.”

He held her close while she retrieved the condom but he wasn’t about to let her distraction go unused. While she fumbled for the package, he shifted against her heated center until she gasped, her fingers biting into his shoulder. The cool press of the foil between her palm and his skin was erotic. “Put it on for me.”

Her eyes locked with his as she shifted to settle the barrier over his erection. Her fingers were warm, torturous as she worked the condom in place. Then she was moving against him, taking the lead as she joined their bodies. Pleasure beyond comprehension spread through him, her sweet embrace sapping all semblance of control, until he pumped up into her with long, powerful strokes.

Abby cried out. The hunger in his lovemaking overpowered her. It set her blood to a slow, sensuous boil. The incredible pleasure of their connection and the thick press of his body deep inside her broke any restraint. Light nips and kisses pressed across her neck and breasts, each one eliciting tiny tremors in its wake.

He gave no quarter, setting a rough pace, her body heating to a mind-numbing temperature sure to burn her from the inside out. In this, they lacked control. In this, they shared indescribable freedom from pain and guilt. In this they shared a moment away from the hell outside.

And she didn’t want it to end.

She met him thrust for hungry thrust, begging him for more. The sweat-slick skin of his neck and arms turned her on, so powerful and rigid as they braced her for his onslaught. She licked at his earlobe, tugging it between her teeth before whispering, “Don’t stop. I need you.”

Heat seeped into her stomach like tiny claws, pinpricks of pressure that spread through her center and spiraled out as the intensity of his pace increased.

Each groan and curse that passed his lips sent ripples of deep satisfaction through her. She wanted his passion to match her own. Wanted to know he became as lost as she in what they shared. There was no beginning or end, no separation of minds or hearts when they made love. Just incredible pleasure. Almost more than she could take.

And she took, and took. He shifted them away from the wall, pressing her down on the cool tile of the kitchen island. She arched into his touch, his hands finding her nipples even as he continued the pace of his thrusts. His lips found her then, his tongue hot against each bud in turn until he thrust hard, groaning against her skin.

“You undo me,” he rasped, sliding a hand beneath her back to arch her into each powerful plunge. His hand smoothed down her belly until his thumb brushed the sensitive nub at the apex of her thighs. The steady rhythm of his body coupled with the manipulations of his thumb threw her over the edge of control. She’d wanted to last longer, to draw out the pleasure until it couldn’t be denied.