The Harder You Fall (28 page)

“I
need
to leave.” Before she broke down. Before Jase and Beck came out and tried to stop her.

Her sister must have realized something more was going on. She gave a reluctant nod. “Call me later.”

“I will.” She typed a text to West.

Hope you're enjoying the meeting. There was a small fire at the farmhouse. Want to know how I am? Well, too bad!

Send.

She hugged her sister, said, “I'll see you later, okay?” and climbed into her car.

Roughly five minutes later, her cell phone rang. West's number appeared on the screen. A screen she turned off, letting him go to voice mail.

He called again...aaand she let him go to voice mail again.

When she reached her destination, curiosity got the better of her and she checked the messages. In the first, he sounded concerned: “I'm so sorry, kitten. I thought you were playing games. I should have known better. Where are you? I need to hear your voice.”

In the second, he sounded ticked. “I told you what I'd be like. Don't shut me out.”
Click.

Her anger redoubled. Don't shut him out? Jerk!
He'd
already shut
her
out.

Almost rebelliously she toured the first fabric store...which was too expensive for her, but extremely inspiring. The patterns were amazing. She took pictures on her phone and emailed herself ideas, losing herself in the possibilities. That one would make a gorgeous day dress. Capped sleeves. Straight bustline. Belted waist. Horizontal ruffles, three rows. Hem just above the knees. Very flirty. Pair it with the right necklace and shoes, and bam, the lucky buyer would be ready for a night on the town.

Feminine murmurs rose throughout the store, some scandalized, some titillated. She glanced up from her typing and frowned. What was—? Then she saw him. Lincoln West, his narrowed gaze pinned to her as he stalked forward, ignoring everyone else. He was tall, strong, more beautiful than ever, dressed in a partially buttoned collared shirt and wrinkled black slacks. No tie, no jacket. His dark hair stuck out in spikes, as if he'd toweled off excess moisture and let the strands dry naturally.

Her heart thundered in her chest. Nothing about his expression said “civilized” or even “reasonable.” The man coming for her had no polished veneer—it had been ripped away, leaving the animal beneath.

She lifted her chin, held her ground. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

“I talked to Brook Lynn.” The words were thrown at her like daggers. “There are only so many fabric stores in the area. Finding you wasn't difficult.”

“Well, you should have stayed in Strawberry Valley. I needed time away from you.”

“Don't worry. You'll get it, but not here and not now. Monica set the fire. Until she's found, you need an escort.”

What! “How do you know she—”

“If you'd bothered to answer my call—” he began.

“If
you'd
bothered to answer
my
call.”

His eyes narrowed. “Get in your car. I'll follow you home. Jase and Brook Lynn will be moving in with you and I... I'll be moved out by the end of the day.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

O
NLY
ONCE
BEFORE
had West experienced a fury as all-consuming as this, and the outcome of it had ended in bloodshed and death. A stain on his soul that could never be cleansed. His schedule had ceased to matter. Time had become inconsequential. Consequences hadn't mattered.

As promised, he followed Jessie Kay home, reeling with every mile gained. He could have lost her today. She could have died. There one moment, gone the next. No time to say goodbye. No way to help her. And just like with Tessa, he would have to live with his guilt, loneliness and never-ending despair.

He might have to anyway. He should have answered Jessie Kay's call, never should have assumed she was messing with his schedule again. He knew her. He knew better. And now, she had every right to her own anger.

He punched the steering wheel. He didn't have to wonder who had set fire to the farmhouse. On his way to the city, the guy he'd hired to watch Monica had called to say he'd lost track of her bright and early, had tried to find her with zero luck.

She must have driven straight to the farmhouse. Only one question remained: Why go with fire?

West had done his homework the day after Monica crashed the Christmas party and learned she'd told the truth about her hunting experience. She'd grown up on a ranch several counties over, and had a competent knowledge of guns, rifles, knives and bows. Why not use one of those?

“Call Jase,” he told his car, and the number began to ring a few seconds later.

“Did you find Jessie Kay?” Jase asked in lieu of a hello. “Brook Lynn is frantic and pissed as hell that I wouldn't let her call her sister.”

West hadn't wanted Jessie Kay distracted and panicked while driving to the store. “She's fine. I'm following her home...and then I'm moving into the office.”

A crackling pause. “Are you sure you want to do that?”

No. Yes. If he was Monica's target, Jessie Kay would be safer without him around. If Jessie Kay was the target, Jase would protect her. As another layer of security, West had already hired Daniel Porter and his new firm. They were working on security at the farmhouse right now. Jessie Kay's house would be next.

“It's for the best. See you in a bit.” Before Jase could say anything more, West ended the call.

At the house, he parked directly behind Jessie Kay's car then stormed up the porch, past the door. She waited in the living room, wringing her hands together. He passed her without a word and entered his bedroom. He grabbed his bag from the closest and began stuffing clothes inside.

“West.” She stood in the doorway, glaring at him. “You aren't moving out. I won't let you.”

“You can't really stop me.”

“You're mad at me, and I'm mad at you, but we shouldn't let it destroy everything we've—”

“I'm not destroying anything.” Was it already destroyed? He stuffed another shirt into the bag. “I don't want to end things, not right now, but I do think we could use a little time apart.”

She closed her eyes for a moment. “Don't do this, West.”

“Until Monica is apprehended, you'll stay here with Jase and your sister, and I'll stay at the office. We'll use the time apart to think. We're both so damaged, I'm not sure we can—”

“No. Don't you dare say it. We
can
make this work.” She wrapped her arms around her middle. “Damaged or not, we're better together.”

He zipped his bag with a hard yank and wound his fingers around the handles. “Certainly doesn't feel like we're better together right now.”

She stared at him for a long while. “You're going to leave no matter what I say, aren't you?”

Like he'd told Jase... “It's for the best.”

“An excuse!” With a hiss, she closed what little distance there was between them, ripped the bag out of his hand and threw it across the room. “You've been looking for a way out this whole time, haven't you? That's why you've been so tense lately.” Her temper had been unleashed, her eyes glittering wildly. Her skin darkened with a fever-flush as she beat her fists against his shoulders, his chest, anything she could reach. “Well, I'm not going to beg you to stay. Go if you want. Go!”

“I'm trying to protect you,” he snarled, his own temper pulling at its reins.

“Bastard! You're trying to protect
yourself
. You're falling for me and you're scared. You can't control me, what I do, where I go, what happens to me, and you're scared. Scared—”

“Enough.”

“Scared, scared, scared.”

One second he stood before her, struggling to breathe, the next he was on her, smashing his lips into hers. Her accusations were
killing
him. He had to shut her up. Had to—

She offered no resistance and threw her arms around him, her tongue a wild thing, her sweet taste driving his need for her higher and higher. His control...utterly...snapped. He gathered the length of her hair in his fist, a tight fist, pulling at the strands. She whimpered with a combination of lust and discomfort, but he didn't loosen his grip. He angled her head, taking her mouth deeper, harder. Heat washed over him, drowned him, but it wasn't enough. Kissing wasn't enough, no matter how much he demanded or how much he gave.

She rubbed against him and he groaned, swept up in the agony of wanting her,
needing
her. In insatiable desperation. He rubbed back, grinding his erection against her, earning another whimper. A prize, the sound of it going straight to his head, drugging him.

Somehow he found the strength to let her go, severing contact. She reached for him, but he stepped back, shook his head.

“Take off your clothes, Jessie Kay, and get on the bed.”

* * *

J
ESSIE
K
AY
ACHED
and trembled with longing she could no longer deny, with joy and triumph. Her anger had pumped her full of adrenaline, and West's first kiss had been a jolt to her system. But then the need had hit. The need to have him, at long last. The need to hold on to him and never let go. The need to make amends, to receive amends...the need to consume, to brand.

He's mine, and I'll prove it.

He wanted her naked, so he'd get her naked. She toed off her shoes and socks, then tugged her shirt over her head and dropped the garment to the floor. Her bra soon followed. She unfastened and unzipped her pants, shimmied out of them. Hooking her fingers through the elastic band of her panties, she pushed the tiny scrap of fabric to the floor and stepped free. Then, she straightened, giving him a full-on frontal view.

As she stood before the object of her fascination, she was panting and shaking. This situation, this moment...it felt different than any other. Far more significant.

What they'd had before had died. This was the start of something new.

West, the savage, utterly devoured her with his gaze.

“I'm on the pill,” she said. “I want you, nothing between us. I've never done that with anyone.”

He swung her around, turning with her, and prowled forward, backing her into the bed. “You are every fantasy I've ever had.”

Limbs trembling with more intensity, she sat at the edge, leaned back and parted her legs. Cool air stroked her feminine core, a lick of chill against white-hot heat. A delicious sensation, but also a torment, the ache almost unbearable now.
Need him so bad.

As he looked her over, the air thickened and crackled with a tension so strong she feared she would be wrenched in two.

“What are you doing to me?” she rasped.

He moved between her legs, ran his fingers between her legs, making her shiver. “The same thing you're doing to me, I hope.”

The exchange struck her as familiar, and she recalled they'd had it once before, only they'd switched roles, proving they'd come full circle.

They were two parts of a whole.

Slowly, so slowly, he unfastened the buttons on his shirt. His gaze remained on hers as he shrugged out of the material, baring his chest, that beautiful chest with row after row of muscle, the bronzed skin that made her mouth water and the etching of Tessa's name that now made her heart sigh dreamily...and with longing.

Love me the way you loved her.

He yanked at the button on his pants, lowered the zipper. Jessie Kay sucked in a breath.
Mine, all mine.
His shaft was so long and thick the head stretched past the waist of his underwear. Underwear he discarded before gripping his length.

“You want this?”

“I do.” No reason to play coy. Desire had to be glistening between her legs. “Give it to me.”

He leaned over her, bracing his hands at her sides while sucking her nipple into his mouth, hard enough to draw a gasp from her and leave her hovering on the fine edge of ecstasy and agony.

Then he kissed his way down...down and sucked on something else.

Too much...not enough.

As she trembled, he surged up to flick his tongue over each of her nipples. Then he went back down...up...down again...trying to consume all of her at once.

“Lincoln.” She wrapped her legs around his waist, hooked her ankles just over his ass and arched up. Finally. Male to female contact, and it was like plugging into a power outlet. She felt singed from the inside out. “I need you.”

“You're going to kill me, kitten.” His weight pinned her to the mattress as he lifted his head to feed her the kind of kiss every woman longed to experience but so few ever did. A kiss that swept her up and dropped her straight into the middle of a storm, where lightning flashed and need thundered. Deep, all-consuming and naughty—she could taste herself on his lips.

Every stroke of his tongue was a promise of body and soul. And for the first time in her life, no part of her felt like the slacker sister, or the disappointment, or the one unworthy of any kind of affection. The one responsible for every bit of trouble. She was desired by a man who'd managed to resist the temptation of so many others. She was cherished by him, his touch as hungry as it was reverent.

“You want me bare?” He anchored one of his hands behind her knee and bent her leg, opening her wider.

“Yes. Please.”

“Then that's how you'll get me.” The kiss continued, not pausing as he positioned himself at her entrance—and thrust inside her.

In an instant he filled her up, stretched her, and a scream bubbled up, an orgasm slamming through her with the force of an avalanche. Just like that. The pleasure...oh, the pleasure! Exquisite, earth-shattering. Taking her over, reducing her to nothing but tremors and gasps.

He breathed her name, a prayer or a curse, she wasn't sure, and began to hammer inside her. He hammered hard, and he hammered fast, rocking the entire bed. A dam must have burst inside him because his control—if he'd had any—was now gone, his finesse destroyed. He was total animal aggression, a piston, and she loved every second of it.

They were slicked with sweat, his flesh sliding against hers, creating the most delicious friction...which caused her nerve endings to gear up for
another
climax.

He tilted her hips up, forcing her to take him even deeper, deeper, and she clung to him, scratched at his back, bit at his tongue and lips, her desires chained to his, her need for relief insatiable.

“Don't stop,” she gasped. “Don't ever stop.”

“Would rather die.” The headboard slammed against the wall. “It's good. Not supposed to be this good.” Another thrust, another and another.

As his tongue mimicked the motions of his shaft—in, out, in, out—her heart galloped, racing the pleasure that whooshed through her veins. The two worked in tandem, clouding her mind, narrowing her focus to West, only West, and this moment—this orgasm. Screaming as satisfaction hit, she dissolved around him.

He cursed, buried his face in the hollow of her neck, and surged into her one last time. He held her tight as he came...and came, shuddering against her.

When he stilled, he stayed inside her, keeping her pinned. His breath fanned over her face, a droplet of sweat sliding from his temple and landing on her shoulder.

He lifted his head and peered into her eyes. He looked...resigned.

Her stomach sank, and she prepared herself for the worst.