I stepped from the shower, wrapping a towel around myself. At the vanity, I wiped off the condensation on the mirror, studying my reflection. The bruises were out, livid and dark on my neck and upper arms. My shoulders wore welts and more bruises, and they ached. Yet, despite my appearance, I felt relaxed and at ease.
Amazing, toe-curling orgasms did that for a girl.
As if he knew I was thinking of him, Julian appeared behind me. His gaze took in my injuries, and he dropped his head to my shoulder, kissing the marks. Then he met my gaze. “They’ll fade.”
“I know.”
“I’ll kiss them every day.”
I lifted one eyebrow. “You think you’ll have access every day, buddy?”
He leaned on the vanity, caging me between his arms. He pressed close, his breath ghosting over my skin as he kissed my neck, carefully sliding his hand into my hair to tilt my head for better access.
He skimmed his hands up my sides, his touch light, yet possessive. He skated his long fingers over the fold in the towel, tugging and loosening the cotton. He cupped my breasts, lifting and fondling the heavy mounds, then tweaked my nipples, the already hard buds becoming a focal point of pleasure as he caressed and played with them.
“If you weren’t hurt, I’d fuck you right here,” he breathed. “Prove my access.”
“Your touch doesn’t hurt,” I moaned, ignoring the pull as I reached up my arms and gripped his neck. “You would never hurt me.”
“Jesus,” he muttered, meeting my eyes. “Don’t tempt me, Tally.”
I pressed back, feeling his erection.
“Please,” I whispered. “You make it all go away.”
He dropped his head back to my shoulder, sliding his hand back down my leg. He lifted it to the vanity and slid his fingers to my center. I let my head fall to his shoulder as he stroked me, pushing one finger inside. He groaned low in his throat.
“You’re so wet. You want me.”
“Yes.”
“Right here?”
“Yes.”
A moment later, he was inside me, his hand splayed across my hips as he drove into me. I had to rise up on my toes, whimpering in pleasure as he filled me.
“Watch yourself. Watch how you look when I’m inside you,” he ordered. “How much you love my cock. How well you take it.”
I stared at our reflection as he moved. One hand holding me close, the other plucking at my erect nipples, going from one to the other. The way his eyes watched us as I absorbed his thrusts, my body swaying in sync with his like a tree bending to the wrath of a windstorm. His eyes were glittering in the light, the gold vivid against the swirls of green and brown. They were focused on our image, turning him on even more. He gripped me a little tighter, picking up the pace, making me gasp as he hit a place inside me I never knew existed. He dropped his other hand back to my clit, circling it and ratcheting up the pleasure.
Everything faded away. Nothing hurt, nothing ached. There was only him. The feel of his touch, the sensation of his skin on mine. His hot breath on my neck, his muttered curses and dirty words. The way he was transfixed on our reflection. On watching me watch us. I turned my head, and he caught my mouth—demanding and hard, his tongue twisting with mine. He became faster, almost frantic, holding me hard against him.
“Watch me come inside you. Watch how beautiful you are when you orgasm,” he demanded, turning my head. His eyes went dark, narrowed with pleasure as he groaned. Fire raced down my spine, exploding and carrying me away. I cried out his name, the sound echoing off the tiles. I clutched his neck, holding on to him, desperately needing him to ground me.
He rode me until he was done. Until I was sated, the last of my orgasm trembling tendrils that shook me. He wrapped his arms around me, kissing my damp skin. I met his eyes, the fire now a low, banked flame.
“We both need another shower,” he murmured.
He pulled my leg off the vanity, rubbing at the skin. “Okay, baby?”
“Yes.”
He kissed my shoulder. “I knew you were going to be trouble.” Then he kissed it again. “The very best kind.”
“What are you reading?” I asked.
Julian glanced up from his book. “Beating up Bikers for Dummies. It helped a lot.”
I burst into unexpected laughter at his silliness. With a grin, he picked up his scotch, sipping it.
“Laughter and a smile. Epic day,” he said. He held up his book. “A biography. Pretty dull, actually.”
We were quiet for a moment.
“Why did you have a knife?” I asked. “I saw a gun too.”
“I’m always armed when on the job.”
I frowned. “There was nothing on the schedule last night.”
“I was doing a private job.”
“You do those a lot?”
“Yes.”
“You beat him up badly.”
“He deserved it,” he said, his tone firm.
“Is he…dead?”
He gaped at me. “Why would you ask me a thing like that?”
“Your face in the back alley. You were so—” I shook my head, unable to find the right words. “You looked lethal. Dangerous.”
He frowned and stayed quiet, as if contemplating his words. Then he shook his head.
“No. He’s in police custody.”
My heartbeat picked up. “Will I-will I have to testify?”
“No. I took care of it. They’re holding him on other charges. His little group of friends is effectively done. He won’t be out for a while, and their clubhouse was raided. They’re all up on charges, singing like birds to try to protect themselves and get a deal.” He snorted. “Not an ounce of loyalty among them, but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”
I had to agree. I gazed at him in wonder. He was always a step ahead on everything. Thought of everything, it seemed.
“Thank you,” I breathed out, wanting him to know how grateful I was.
His next words shocked me, though.
“I’m hiring you full time.”
“What?”
“I don’t want you going back to that bar.”
I shook my head. “Julian, you can barely keep me busy three days a week, never mind the fourth you already added.”
He shrugged, pulling on my feet and placing them on his lap. “I’ll find other duties for you. I hate budget stuff. You can handle that. Plus, you can help Leo. And you can use the time to work on school stuff.”
“You can’t pay me to take courses.”
“Stop arguing with me. It’s happening.”
I crossed my arms. “Julian—”
He locked stares with me, neither of us willing to back down.
“You can’t pay me for doing nothing. I’m not a charity case.”
“I never said you were. Don’t put words in my mouth.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Listen, I can’t let you go back to the bar. I doubt any of them would come around there again, but I can’t risk it. You’re safe in my building. You can work, do your schoolwork—” he flung out his hand “—clean this place every week if it makes you feel better, but that is what has to happen.”
“I’m not your responsibility.”
In a second, he was beside me on the sofa, crowding me into the corner. “That’s where you’re wrong. You became my responsibility the second you walked into my office. You became my friend the moment you chose to care for me and sat up all night watching over me.” His voice softened and became low and husky. “You became mine the instant my lips touched yours and you let me into your sweet body. So, you can’t tell me not to worry or think that we can go back to the way things were before this weekend.” He cupped my face and kissed me. Long, slow, and passionately. “Because that is not happening. I’m not fighting it anymore. You’re mine, so get used to it.”
He kissed me again and picked up his book but didn’t move away. He kept his hold tight on my legs as if I would run away.
I could barely move in shock at his little speech. I should be jumping up and telling him off. Refusing him. Being involved with him was dangerous. I needed to tell him no.
Instead, I muttered, “Bossy much?” under my breath.
He squeezed my legs. “You love it.”
“Shocked with all that oozy, subtle charm, you’re still single.” I sniffed. “Lucky me.”
He chuckled. “Grumble all you want. It’s still happening.”
I shut up.
Because, really, I rather liked being his—at least so far.
Later that night, we lay in his big, comfortable bed, a lamp in the corner casting its dim glow across the room. It had started to rain earlier, the sound of the water hitting the glass a low noise in the background. We faced each other, his hand on my hip, his other arm tucked under his head, mimicking my position. Dinner had been another takeout, and when I questioned Julian about his fairly empty cupboards, he shrugged dismissively.
“My schedule is erratic. Plus, I don’t cook well, so it’s easier to do takeout.”
“That’s something I could do. I’m a decent cook. I could shop and make you meals. Easy stuff you can reheat. Plus, you should keep some things on hand. Soup, that sort of thing.”
He had kissed my forehead, smiling. “Whatever you think.”
I had to do something. I had been serious earlier when I told him I wasn’t a charity case.
I shifted and he frowned. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. A little achy but fine.”
He ran his fingers down my cheek. “You’re strong. Brave.” He smirked. “Sexy in my shirt. Even sexier out of my shirt.”
“I have to go home tomorrow.”
“I’ll take you and get some of your things.”
I frowned. “You can drive me home, but I’m staying there.”
His lips tightened, but he didn’t argue. I wasn’t sure if I was disappointed or not. I had to admit, I liked it there—with him. The building you couldn’t get into without a pass card for the elevator or walking past the concierge. The heavy doors and locks. Plus, him.
Julian.
He had made love to me again, this time face-to-face, our bodies moving together with an ease that shocked me. I had never enjoyed sex as much as with him. It was as if my body was attuned to his and we knew exactly how to bring the other pleasure. His touch was warm, his mouth addictive, and what he did when he moved inside me? Explosive. He took away the hurt, the pain, the constant worry. They evaporated, and the only thing left was him. Us. I had never experienced anything like it.
He studied me, then spoke, his question like a sudden explosion in the room.
“What are you hiding from, Tally?”
I felt the color drain from my face.
“What?”
“Something from your past has you scared. Tell me and let me help.”
There was nowhere to run. To hide. He was too close, his arm draped over my hip holding me there. His eyes saw too much, and after the other night, I knew he deserved an answer.
“My dad died when I was a baby. My mom passed when I was older. I lived with my grandmother.”
“In Quebec.”
“Yes.”
“My half brother lived there too.”
“Half?”
“My mother had been married before she met my dad. I was ten years younger than Dean. He lived with his dad until he passed, then he went to my grandmother’s. He was never very close with my mom. They argued a lot, from what I understood.”
“Were you close to him?”
I smiled sadly. “He was a good brother. Or at least he was until he started hanging with a biker gang.”
“Ah.”
“They came around one night and pushed me around a little, scared me.”
“Fuckers,” he growled.
“He left their gang but took up with another one—and they were worse. He got caught up in some bad stuff. It changed him. Even my gran noticed.”
He nodded. “That explains your dislike of bikers.”
My throat became thick, my vision clouding as tears built. “Dislike isn’t a strong enough word. Hate is more like it.”
“What happened, Tally?” he asked quietly.
“They killed him,” I whispered.
JULIAN
I stared at her, aghast. I hadn’t expected that answer. I wasn’t sure what had made me ask her about her past at that exact moment. Except she was soft and warm, pliant and relaxed after our lovemaking, and I hoped she would open up to me. And when she mentioned she had to go home the next day, I saw the flicker of fear return to her eyes. Felt her body stiffen slightly at the thought. I wanted to know why.
“Baby…” I tightened my grip.
“I was seventeen when I went to live with my grandmother. Dean was twenty-seven. He lived over the garage at Gran’s when I first got there. I had hoped to get to know him better, but he was pretty private. We got along well enough. He tried to help—he was always nice to me. He told me jokes and made me laugh. It was a hard adjustment for me, but I pushed through. I went to school, graduated, then took a couple years off to save money. My parents didn’t have much, and all my gran had was her house and her little pension. We lived very frugally.”
She shifted, wincing a little at her shoulder.
“I always knew I wanted to come here to study art. I worked and saved for the tuition. Dean became more and more distant. He moved out of Gran’s, and we hardly ever saw him. He’d drop by on occasion at the bar I worked at, but he never came to the house. And he never stayed long. He’d give me money for Gran and check up on me.”
“What did he do?”
“He was a mechanic.”
She wiped under her eyes. “The last few times I saw him, he was different. Cold. He didn’t look well. But he refused to tell me what was going on. Then my gran got sick, and she died—it happened really quickly. She left him the house in the will, but she told him she wanted me to have half if he decided to sell. And I could live there rent free until I went to school.”
“I’m surprised she didn’t spell it out in her will.”
She shrugged. “She had made it years before I came to stay with her. Like I said, he and my mom never got on. He went to live with Gran when I was about three, so she was very close to him. I think that was her way of looking after him. She figured I had my parents, so she became his. She never changed the will, but she sat us down and told us what she wanted. Dean had no problem with it, so there was no need to change the wording, I suppose.”
“So, what happened with the house?”
She looked lost in a memory for a moment, the sadness in her eyes getting deeper.
“I decided it was time to go to school, and Dean didn’t want the house. It was a little out of town and run-down. He had an appraiser in who said the house needed to be torn down, and the land wasn’t worth much where it was. ‘Just a bit of scrub brush,’ he called it. Dean got a second opinion, who basically said the same thing, although he was a little more polite. It wasn’t a big plot, and all around, it wasn’t developed. So, he didn’t get much for it, but my share would let me go to school and not work, at least for a while.”
“But?” I asked, sensing the crux of the story coming.
“Dean told me my gran had taken out a loan against the house. He took the proceeds from the sale after he repaid the loan and put it into the bank. But I found out that he, ah, he liked to gamble. And he decided he could make us more money. He gambled away his half—” she sighed, the sound despondent “—then he did the same with mine, certain his luck would change.”
I cursed silently. The stupid bastard.
“When he lost it all, he borrowed from the bikers he hung with, certain he could win it back. He just needed a little more time.”
This time, I couldn’t stay quiet. “Jesus. What an idiot.”
“I think he was set up. He told me he doubled it at one point…” She trailed off.
“And then lost it,” I guessed.
“Yes. He had a little left, but not much.”
“So, they came after him.”
“They beat him up pretty bad. He looked terrible. They accused him of holding back. They’d heard rumors from his former gang that he had a sister, and they told him I could be used to pay the debt back.”
I pulled her closer, horrified. “Fuck. Tell me it didn’t happen, baby.”
“Earlier that week at the bar, a bunch of bikers had come in. They kept staring at me, talking among themselves. One of them followed me to the storeroom and pinned me against the wall, and he told me they were watching. He told me to tell Dean, ‘They liked what they saw.’ The guy roughed me up a little. It scared me, and I told him what they said and showed him the bruises. He got really upset and said it was nothing compared to what they could do. What they would do once they found out everything about me. He gave me some money. Told me to disappear. Get out of the province. He suggested Alberta, saying I could get lost there. Not to contact him. To never come back to Quebec.” She sighed. “He went by his father’s last name, so they didn’t know who I was yet, and he thought if I left and they couldn’t find me, they would figure something else out. He’d kept our lives so separate. It was the first time I realized he was doing it to protect me and my gran. What he didn’t think about was that it hurt us since we didn’t understand. Sometimes, the truth is better.”
I ignored the flash of guilt her words caused. The secret I was keeping from her was different.
“So, I left that night. I packed a bag and took the first bus I could get.”
I pulled her a little closer. “Tally, you must have been so frightened.”
“I was, but I met a girl my age on the bus. I liked her and we talked. I didn’t tell her everything except I was alone and needed a place to stay. She said she was getting off in Toronto. She told me she knew of a room for rent. And her aunt ran an office cleaning service. For the next two years, I hid. I worked nights cleaning offices, slept in a little room in the basement of her aunt’s during the day. I rarely went out.” A shiver ran through her body. “June and her aunt Cathy were very kind, but everywhere I looked, I saw danger. Every stranger I met was a potential threat. June and Cathy knew I was in some sort of trouble, and Cathy paid me cash under the table and took the rent off it. I had no bank account—nothing. I paid cash for everything. Only used the internet in cafés.” A sob escaped her throat. “I found out my brother had died in a newspaper article I saw not long after I got here.”
I pressed a kiss to her head. “I’m sorry, Tally.”
“Eventually, no one seemed to be looking for me. I was tired of it all. I finally decided I’d hidden long enough, so I enrolled in school. Found another little place to live closer to school. Worked tons of odd jobs to pay for everything. And stayed in the shadows. Always still afraid, but tired of not living.”
“If they killed him, he was probably right. They didn’t find out who or where you were, and he paid the ultimate price. But you’re good to be cautious.” I paused. “Do you remember the name of the group?”
“Belham Terrors.” She shivered again. “I’ll never forget it. I only found out because I saw him in a jacket once that had the patch on it. Two dogs ripping each other’s throats out. The men in the bar had worn the same jacket.” She shut her eyes. “I never mentioned it to him. I never understood why he was part of them. He wasn’t like that. He became a different person. He did drugs, he drank, he…he made terrible decisions…” She trailed off. “I lost him a long time ago, I suppose.”
I didn’t know what to say to her. Knowing how scared she must have been. How alone. Yet, still pushing forward, keeping her head down, and going on with life. She was incredibly brave and strong.
“Do you see your friend anymore?”
She didn’t meet my eyes. “People drift, and sometimes it’s for the best.”
I hated knowing how alone she was.
“That’s why you like the building,” I said. “Why you wanted to work for me.”
“Yes, I feel safe there.”
“You are. You’re safe there.” I wrapped her in my embrace, holding her tight. “Here—with me. Nothing will happen to you when you’re with me.”
“I know,” she whispered. “I always feel safe with you.”
The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. “Then stay.”
She looked up. “What?”
“Stay here with me.”
“What—live here?”
“Yes.”
She looked confused. “In the guest room?”
I chuckled. “You really think I want you in the guest room? I want you here in my bed.”
“I can’t, Julian. It’s too—”
“Fast? I know. Stupid? Undoubtedly. Rash and unlike me? Totally. But it also feels right. I miss you when you’re not in the office. When you are, I find excuses to get close, and I hate it when you leave. Knowing what I know now, I can’t let you go back to being on your own.”
Worry made her frown. “Do you think I’m still in danger?”
“Since it’s been so long, no. But you’ve been alone too long. I’ve been alone too long. I want you here, and why should we wait?”
“Because normal people would.”
“So, we’re not normal.”
Still, she hesitated. “I need to think about it.”
I loved and hated the fact that she said that. She was proud and independent, which I loved, but I hated that she might say no, when the thought of her on her own made me anxious.
“Not for too long.”
I held her long after she fell asleep. I needed to get Damien on the search for that biker group. Make sure she was safe. Protect her at all costs. If they were okay with the idea of whoring out someone’s sister, God only knew what else they were capable of doing. Hidden Justice could shut them down. Punish them.
I had never felt such a personal need for justice before now. But then again, I had never fallen—
I caught myself before I let my brain spew out the words.
I wasn’t in love with Tally. It wasn’t possible.
I looked down at her, asleep and safe in my arms.
Was it?