The Darkest Danger (Shattered Series Book 2) (15 page)

     “I’m sorry,” he muttered, feeling both and shame wash over him. “Sometimes, I can be a self-absorbed bastard. I don’t mean to be selfish about any of this.”

     “It’s past time to lay all of this to rest. When we do, Caitlyn and Colin can finally go on to a better place in peace. As long as this is going on with the Addison’s, they can’t,” Marc continued, having regained his composure, and studied him close. “That’s it, isn’t it? You’re afraid that the same thing that happened to Caitlyn and Colin is going to happen to Olivia and Meghan.”

     “Yes,” he admitted, looking away. “And I can’t fail them in the same way that I did them. Because of my incompetency and weakness, they went through a tremendous amount of suffering. I’ll be damned if history repeats itself.”

     “While you have a penchant for assuming most blame, in this case, you’re wrong. We both know who’s responsible for the sadistic and cruel actions that were wrought upon them. It’s not you.” He paused again. Before, we didn’t realize the kind of people that we were dealing with. Now, we do, and that’s what makes a difference,” he sighed. “Again, I know that you don’t want to, but you need to consider letting Olivia in on this. Up to this point, in spite of all the heartbreak and dishevel in her life, she’s managed to keep standing. Hell,” Marc quipped in a teasing voice. “She’s managed to withstand the hurricane known as Jarrod Sabatino.” After pushing the chair back, he stood. “Much as I’d love to stand here and go a few rounds with you, I have to go. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

     “Alright,” he nodded, returning to the window, and a few seconds later, heard as Marc left.

     He faced the Atlanta skyline again.

     Unsurprisingly, once more, it held no answers.

***

     Later that night, lounging against the plush pillows at the middle of the bed, she read the final pages of the novel, and then snapped it closed before letting out a contented sigh. Hugging it to her chest, she smiled dreamily, satisfied that the hero and heroine had overcome their many obstacles.

    
Everything had turned out perfectly…

     She bit her lip in concentration.

    
Would her fairytale romance have a happy ending?

     The bells chimed on the clock.

    
Midnight
, she mulled quietly, and her eyes went to the other bedroom door.

     While she’d been engrossed in her book, she’d also been listening for signs of Jarrod being in his room. But, there’d been nothing to indicate that he was, she pondered quietly, fighting against the disappointment. That wasn’t surprising, either, considering his absence since he’d left earlier that day. Not only had he missed dinner, he hadn’t called or spoken to her or Rosa.

    The novel bit through the thin, peachy hued nightgown as she clutched it closer against her chest, and she considered a painful thought.    

     She straightened in the bed.

    
Was it possible that he was out on a date with another
woman
, she thought, feeling the jealousy consume her. Certainly, a virile, attractive, and sexually driven man like Jarrod wouldn’t be content or patient enough to hover along the fringes of life.

     “It’s not my concern what he does any longer,” she said haughtily, tossing the book aside, and glared across the room at the door. “Nor do I care.”

     She fell back against the pillows. “Oh, who am I kidding?” she sighed. “I love him like mad crazy.”

     Suddenly restless, she kicked the covers off before treading for the balcony. The thin, frilly nightgown was perfect for the night heat, she decided, sliding the balcony door aside. As she stepped outside, she inhaled a breath of the summer air, and again, the scent of Georgia pines and flowers assailed her senses. Propping against the railing, she soaked in the sights of the huge estate and marveled at the exquisite beauty.

     Not too far out, she caught sight of someone walking across the lawn, and the shimmering moonlight shone upon them.

     She caught her breath.

    
Of course, she knew exactly who it was.

     Jarrod strode across the grounds with intent and purpose, and even from this distance, she was held captive by his masculine excellence.

    
And he was simply power
, she realized, helplessly drawn, and continued to stare.

    
For he had complete control over her---

    
Grasping her nape, she took in a shaky breath.

     He was half-dressed…

     Only the white sleeping trousers covered him.

     As if sensing her primal stare, he glanced up.

     Their gazes made a connection.

     Locked and held---

     She tightened her hold on the thin railing, praying that it’d support her.

     He drew closer.

     She couldn’t look away.

     Neither could he…

     It was if both of them were spellbound and held captive by a secret entity.

     But, finally, somehow, he managed to break their visual hold first and turned his attention elsewhere. Still, though, like a besotted hopeless fool, she watched until he veered completely from her sight. Once he did, she scurried back to the bedroom before leaping back onto the bed.

     Drawing the covers to her neck, holding her breath, she stared at the door that linked theirs. Several minutes passed, and finally, she heard movement in the hallway and the soft click of the door, an indication that he was finally in his room.

     A moment later, there was the sound of a running shower.

     Naturally, he hadn’t lost that habit, she mulled, swallowing hard.

     A late night shower after a long thought-provoking stroll had always been a staple of his. And just what thoughts had plagued his mind, she wondered, feeling her incessant needs rise.

     Did those very thoughts mirror hers?

    
The need to be close…

     The need to be loved…

     And the desire to know one another’s most intimate thoughts---

  
  “Oh, Jarrod,” she whispered in the darkness. “I miss you so much.”

     Before her good sense could rule out, she kicked the covers away again and left the bed. When she reached the adjoining door, she questioned her own sanity and reasons. Heart pounding, pulse racing, she closed a trembling hand around the doorknob before giving it a gentle twist, and after the briefest of hesitation, she pushed the door open.

     The darkness bathed the bedroom except for the sliver of light coming from bathroom door which was barely cracked. From what she could tell, the room was warmly dressed in a deep fuchsia color. The furniture, of course, held a modernistic flair from the large four-posted bed, armoire, and chaise lounge not to mention the rest.

     Her eyes went to the mussed bed.

     The very essence of him lingered, she thought, fingering the sheets, and quickly caught a subtle scent of his signature cologne, a rich mixture of sage and oak moss. Closing her eyes, she picked the pillow from the bed before hugging it to her.

    
Would this be as close as they’d ever be again?

     “Dear God, what am I doing?” she whispered, blinking back tears, and placed the pillow back on the bed. “I shouldn’t be here. But, is it so wrong that I want to be?”

     Still, though, her footsteps led her towards the bathroom.

     The hiss of running water grew louder as she cracked the door open.

     But, from this vantage point, the shower wasn’t visible.

     Heart pounding, she ventured inside.

     A richly designed his and her double sink rested beneath the long mirror that stretched along the wall. All sorts of toiletry items obliterated the counter from shaving cream, lotion, toothpaste…

     She caught sight of her reflection in the mirror.

    
Had she ever appeared so vulnerable and lost before
, she mulled, and was stunned by the look of desperate need on her face. Taken aback, she moved again, this time bypassing the shiny glistening white tub.

     As she drew closer to her destination, the air left her lungs.

     She had no semblance of herself.

     But, still, she reasoned, inhaling a desperate breath.

    
How could she possibly turn away from this moment?

     The open shower fell into view, and as she caught of his wet, naked body, she nearly came apart. For he was a sight to behold---

     He stood with his back to her, not realizing that she was there.

     In fine streams, the water coursed down him.

     She clutched the front of the nightgown with shaky hands.

    
And his body---

     The one that she’d tasted, touched, and loved on so many occasions…

     It was contoured like a well-sculpted masterpiece.

     Long hours in the sun had served him so graciously, she thought, drawing in a long breath, and leaned her back against the wall for support. From head to toe, his skin was a rich brown bronze color. At once, he turned slightly to the side, and she caught full view of his bulging erection.

    
And dear heavens, he was fighting to stave
his raw needs
, she gasped, subconsciously grabbing hold of the nightgown’s hemline. As she watched him, she hitched it up her thigh, and the fabric whispered up her tingling skin.

     She ached…

     She felt….

    
She needed him…

    
And he needed her
, she mulled, drugged, enslaved by the sight as he closed a hand around his engorged organ. As the water sprayed against his raging flesh, he shut his eyes tight while struggling to bear his needs and agony.

     Her own breaths came fast as she inched the nightgown higher, fighting to appease her own dark needs as she slipped a hand inside the bikini panties. Drugged, lost, she hurled herself willingly into the forbidden place.

     With his every stroke along his shaft, she stroked her inner lips, and before long the wetness bathed her slim fingers as it seeped from her deep insides.

     His breaths were harsh and erratic as the cold water sprayed against him.

     So was her own, she moaned, struggling to control her cry.

     His movements quickened.

     She increased her own pace.

     Haunted, lost in their dark pleasurable world, they sought a forbidden, sensual ending to their torture.

     A subtle coolness seeped the room.

     The cool steam clung to the walls like misty dew, and rose within the shower walls.

     Yet, it had little effect on their fiery heat.

     Finally, he reached his peak. “Olivia,” he rasped hoarsely, and his huge body shook as pleasure overtook him.

     Wanton, needy, she cried out softly as she absorbed her own, and her eyes fluttered closed as the spasms racked through her. Tumbling mindlessly and willingly through the sensual fog, she struggled to find herself.

     A breathless moment later, she did.

     Releasing a shuddering breath, she opened her eyes, and as she did, she stared directly into his across the way. Her heartbeat thudded out of control as their gazes held, and all at once, both guilt and shame crashed through her---for hadn’t she invaded upon such a private moment and made it all about herself?

     But, rather than anger, his green eyes gleamed with fire and a blatant invitation. As he faced her fully, she nearly crumpled to the floor. In all his nude glory, he gave her a total unblemished view of what she was missing.

    
And what could be hers again
…

     Trembling, weakened, she leaned against the wall and returned his deep stare.

     They said no words.

    
For none were needed
.

     Finally, he broke the spell. “Olivia---”

     Releasing a breathless cry, she fled from the room.

     Moments later, with the door locked between them once again, she lay in bed and stared up at the ceiling. While she’d fled earlier, she would never be able to escape the real truths or herself.

     The truth was irrefutable.

    
She wanted, needed, and loved him beyond reasoning
. 

***

     Within the next few days, she avoided Jarrod as much as possible, and it was something that proved to be difficult since they were living under the same roof. But, she was careful to always make sure that Rosa or Meghan was around whenever he was present in her company.