Bound by Lies: Bound #1 (Adult Romantic Suspence) (20 page)

Oh God. I stare at the bed that I share with Jacob. My
stomach twists and I have to clasp a hand to my mouth to stop from throwing up.
Or crying out. My other hand grabs at my stomach. Oh God. The same hand he used
to kill her is the same hand that he uses to give me pleasure. How could I fall
in love with someone like this?

I can’t get back into bed with him. I can’t.

No
, a voice inside me cries out.
You can and you
will. And do it now because Jacob is coming back any minute.

I don’t know how I manage it but I take off my dressing gown
and crawl back into his bed. My skin reacts like it is breaking out in a rash
against these sheets. But I force myself to stay there.

I smell him – us – on the sheets and the waves of nausea
keep coming. But I don’t move. I lie on my side and stare at the wall in the
dark and will my breathing to steady and instruct my heart to calm, calm, just
calm down. I don’t know for how long I lie there.

I hear the door click.

The sound causes every nerve ending to scream. I hear Jacob
enter the bedroom and pad across the room to the bed. I close my eyes. If I
give away that I saw him, he’ll kill me. And I want to live. I want to live. So
breathe. Just breathe.

I have this memory of when my parents were still alive. I
had woken up to a nightmare and run into their room screaming. They wrapped me
up between them and their presence was like shields around me. Soft, warm,
loving shields that protected me. I force my mind to go back to this memory and
I pretend that this is just a nightmare and I am actually asleep, safe in my
parents’ arms. I’ll wake up soon. I will. I feel my heart slowing as a warmth
surrounds me.

Then the mattress shifts behind me. The smell of soap and
Jacob’s cologne keeps intruding through my memory. He washed himself after he…
the smell makes the room spin. Just keep breathing. His arm curls around my
stomach and he pulls me into place. I am thankful his hand doesn’t go anywhere
on my chest. He would feel my heart about to burst out of my ribs.

His body is hot. Too hot and it scorches my back. And causes
bile to rise in my throat. And his mark to burn on my ass. But I remain still.

I don’t sleep.

As the light through the curtains signals dawn, I feel Jacob
waking up and his erection growing against my back. My body tenses as his hands
dive down my stomach. Oh God. Then he touches me between my legs. Something
inside me breaks. And everything goes numb. The numbness works through my body
as he works his fingers against me. It isn’t long before he climbs on top of
me.

I should be screaming at him. I should be pushing his hands
off me. But I don’t. I feel nothing. I think nothing except that I want to
live. I want to get out of here alive. I want that more than anything. I want
to live.

You won’t realize how strong you are until you are given no
other choice.

When he kisses me, I kiss him right back. When he touches me
I make all the right noises. And when he enters me I wrap my legs around his
waist and push back against the headboard because I know he likes it when I do
that. And it also means he will come quicker. The quicker he comes, the less
time I have to make myself go through this. I squeeze my eyes shut and remind
myself, I am strong. And I want to live. And I repeat this word in my mind with
every thrust.

Live.

Live.

Live.

“I need to go home for a few hours today,” I finally get up
the courage to say to Jacob over breakfast. My voice shakes and I hope he
doesn’t notice it.

“Why?”

“Class,” I blurt out.

Jacob folds back his newspaper and narrows his eyes at me.
“I didn’t think you had classes today.”

Fuck. “I don’t, but there’s a book I need for class, um, for
class tomorrow. There’s homework due that I need to do. I need the book to do
the homework for class… tomorrow…” I stop talking. Shit. Even I sound
suspicious to myself.

Jacob’s eyes flick in the direction of his office. “Okay,
I’ve got business I need to take care of this morning. I’ll pick you up for
dinner.”

Oh my God. I force myself not to cry out in relief. I’m
almost out of here. Almost.

“Snake will take you home.”

I freeze. No, please. Not Snake. Not Snake who was just
involved in a murder. Not Snake who would kill me in a second if he knew that I
knew. Why does it have to be Snake?

All the way home I can feel Snake’s eyes on me from across
the limo. His beady pinpoint eyes feel like needles in my skin. I try not to
look at him. I swear he knows that I saw them. I swear he does.

Snake insists on walking me all the way to my dorm room,
which he never does. Oh God, he knows. Just breathe. I force myself to walk
straight, chin high as he walks behind me. I can feel his eyes on me, coating
me like a slimy moss. When I reach my door I force myself to turn briefly to
him and thank him. I fumble with my door and stumble into my dorm room. Trisha
isn’t in her bed. There’s no one here except Snake and me. I turn to shut the
door. But Snake’s foot shoots out to stop it from closing. Oh fuck.

He pushes the door back open and stares at me with narrowed
eyes. “I’ll be back. At five.”

I nod and try not to let the fear leak out of my eyes.

Finally he takes his foot out from my door and I can finally
shut it.

I lean my ear against the door until I hear his footsteps
fade away. Only then does the wave of horror rise up from my soul like bile. It
burns my throat. I run to the bathroom. My insides clench violently as I curl
over the toilet and throw up all my breakfast. My body is trying to purge itself
of Jacob, of his touch, of his smell, of his taste. Oh God.

Even after I have nothing left to throw up, I still feel
sick. I feel like every single pore in my body is dirty. I rinse out my mouth
and the burn of the mouthwash is cleansing. I wish I could soak my body in it
so that it burns away every trace of Jacob.

I tear off the clothes I’m wearing and stuff them in the
trash. My body feels cold like frostbite and it’s painful when I stand under
the hot shower. But even after I stand under there for twenty… thirty… forty
minutes there’s a part of me that is still cold. A part of me that will never
defrost.

I force myself out of the shower then to change – jeans and
a plain tee and sneakers.

Then I run.

The present

Through the slip in the blinds I can see the sun has dipped
below the horizon darkening outside. The street lights are on and it floods the
street with pools of light. I watch for anyone coming to the building for me.
No one does.

I slip my gun on my bedside table while I call Dixie and
tell her I can’t come in to work today. She can tell something’s wrong but she
doesn’t pry. She tells me to take as much time as I need.

My mind keeps going over how this could all possibly connect.
The woman’s number on a matchbook from a club which just happens to be owned by
the Tyrells… Jacob Tyrell being the very man I am running from. Is this just a
coincidence?

The paranoid part of me, the part that still doesn’t trust
anyone, says that there is no such thing as fucking coincidences. What if Cade
is working for the Tyrells? What if he was using me all this time?

This can’t be true. It can’t. It just can’t. Every look,
everything Cade has said to me, it doesn’t feel like a lie. And, if this were
true, why hasn’t he killed me? Or brought me to Jacob?

But I can’t deny the link. I can’t take any risks. I have to
leave again. At least I had eight good months here. There’s cash and clothes in
my car. All I have to do is go downstairs and start driving. And Caden would
never find me.

I get out of bed and stare around my apartment. Is there
anything else I need to take with me? I open the bedside drawer to take out the
spare magazine of my Smith and Wesson. I see the drawing that Jeff made of us
and I feel a pang of loss.
Your family away from home.

I don’t want to leave.

Dammit. I knew better than to get attached. I knew better.
But I let myself care anyway. Next time, I can’t let myself care at all.

No. I force myself to harden. If I stay, I risk my life.
Maybe one day in the future, when it’s safer, I can find a way to get in touch
with Mick and Dixie and the guys and let them know I am okay. But for now, I
have to go.

What was that?

My ears prick up when I hear soft footfalls approaching in
the corridor. They stop outside my door. And I hear a soft knocking.

Oh my God. It’s Jacob.

Jacob wouldn’t knock. He would kick my door in.

Then who is it? No one has my address, except…

My fingers curl around the gun handle. The familiar contours
of the gun work somewhat to calm me. I tiptoe to the door, careful to avoid
that creaky floorboard, my gun aimed at the door at heart-height. I lick my
lips – they are completely dry. My heart is thudding so hard in my ears that I
can barely hear it when the knock sounds again.

I press my eye to the peephole.

Caden is standing outside. Caden, dressed in a dark shirt
and denim. I’m going crazy. He can’t really be there. I blink. But he’s still
there beyond the peephole.

Caden Thaine. Every tall muscled inch of him. And that dark
hair that I love to run my fingers through. And those green eyes that unstitch
me with one glance. And that dangerous scar that it thrills me to lick.

I am hit with a torrent of emotion, so hard that I feel like
I am almost knocked backwards. I hate that he’s here and I don’t trust his
intentions. But my heart reacts by releasing a rush of heat through me. All at
once my mind roars with chatter.

Don’t open it. It’s a trick.

But it’s Cade. You
know
him. He would never hurt
you.

You’re an idiot.

But he’s unarmed.

That’s what you think.

Fuck. Either way I have to know why he’s here.

In one swift move, I unlock the deadbolt and swing open the
door, pointing the gun at Cade’s chest.

His eyes find my face first. Then they look down towards the
barrel of my gun aimed at his heart. The sadness in his eyes makes my own heart
ache, but I don’t drop my aim. I don’t falter. I don’t even flinch. My face
remains stern like steel.

“You don’t need to point that at me, kitten.”

Hearing his nickname for me causes tiny cracks in my
resolve. No. Stay strong. So I remain cold. “What do you want?”

He seems to accept that I’m not lowering the gun. “Can I
come in?”

His eyes remain on my face. No, I can’t keep meeting his
gaze. It’s too intense and it melts me and makes me soft on the inside. I drop
my gaze slightly down to his left cheek. “Not until you tell me what the fuck
you are doing on my doorstep after disappearing for four goddamn weeks.”

A ghost of a smile touches the corner of his lips and I see
him nod slightly. I feel for some odd reason that he is proud that I haven’t
just given in to him. Like I always have.

“I came to apologize.”

Down the corridor I hear another door open. I can hear Mrs.
Gardener, my neighbor, yelling at her husband not to forget the milk. Mr.
Gardener has to walk past my door to leave the building, and even he won’t miss
the fact that I have a gun pointed at this man.

I step back but keep my aim on him. “Get the fuck inside,” I
growl low.

He steps in and turns to close the door behind him, just
preventing Mr. Gardener from getting an eye-f of my barrel as he ambles past
my door to the stairs. I step forward and press the barrel to his spine.

“Hands on the door.”

He complies.

“Don’t. Move.” Using the words that he always uses on me
before he strips me makes my face heat up and sends a pulse between my legs.

Keeping my gun pressed into his back I use my other hand to
pat his back, sides and legs down for a weapon. I can feel every hard, thick
inch of him and my body responds like a cat in heat. Imagine if he were naked
under my hands…

I bite my lip and am grateful that he can’t see me
struggling to keep my shit together. I have to step closer to him to move my
hand around to feel his chest.

Before I can touch him he grabs my hand and brings it up to
his mouth. His lips running along my fingers has me shaking.

“Please, kitten. I’m not armed.”

Anger and need mix in my body and it hurts. It fucking kills
like a fist twisting at my insides. I hate myself for still reacting to him
this way. I hate him for coming back.

I snatch my hand back. My eyes roam hungrily across his wide
back under his dark shirt then drop for a second to his ass. In my head my
hands are all over him, stripping him of his jeans and his…

Shit. I need more distance between us. I take another step
back and he slowly turns around.

“I missed you, kitten.”

“Liar!”

“I understand why you’re angry. I understand why you want to
shoot me.”

My gun is shaking in my hand and my arm is starting to get
so heavy.

He continues, “I didn’t want to leave. But I could feel what
little I had to offer you wasn’t going to be enough anymore. And I don’t have
any more to give you. I don’t. You deserve so much more than me. I thought I
was doing the right thing by you. To leave before you started resenting me.”

“That is such bullshit, Cade.”

“But you resent me now anyway.” He shakes his head, sadness
pulling at his features. “I messed up, kitten. I thought… I thought that you
would be better off without me. I’m still sure that you would be better without
me. But I’m selfish and I need you too much. I can’t stay away from you
anymore. I’m sorry.”

My heart is flipping in my ribcage. I want so badly to throw
this gun aside, this single piece of metal that separates us now, and to melt
into him. But I just… I can’t move. I can’t fucking move. I want to believe him,
but I’m scared to.

“You looked so sad the other day, kitten. Even from where I
was I could see that you’d been crying. I wanted to wipe your tears away and
kiss your eyelids until you felt better. I wanted to kill the person that hurt
you. Then I realized I was the asshole who did this to you. I fucking hate
myself for being the cause of it.”

“You- you’ve been following me?”

“Please.” His hands raise in an attempt at placation. “I
just needed to know you were okay. That you were safe. Happy. I just needed to
see you.”

I have to fight to keep my eyes open as a wave of emotion
overwhelms me. It is sadness and ache and anger and beautiful agony all at
once. Cade has been with me even when I didn’t think he was.

“If you tell me to go away, I will. If that’s what you want.
That’s the only reason I would ever leave again. I can’t live without you,
kitten. It took losing you to realize it.” He steps forward.

I step back. “Stay back or I’ll shoot.”

He steps forward again and I step back. “Tell me you never
want to see me again and I will make sure you don’t.”

I believe him. I could end this now. If I never wanted to
see him again, he would go and he would stay away because I asked him to. He
takes another step. My gun is shaking now and I am angry that I can’t keep my
aim straight. His hand comes up slowly towards the barrel of my gun.

“Don’t. What the fuck are you doing? You want to die?”

His fingers close around the steel. He aims it at his heart
and steps forward so the barrel is pressing at his chest. “Kill me or tell me
that you want me to leave. It’s the only way you’re getting rid of me.”

I can’t. I can’t do either.

“If you need to shoot me, then shoot me. I would be okay
with that. My life is yours anyway, kitten. I know that now.”

“Fuck you,” I whisper.

I can’t look him in the eyes. I know that if I do I am a
goner. I need to stay strong. I need to remember that he is hiding things from
me. That he is broken.

So are you. You are hiding things, too. And you are
broken.

He lifts his other hand to cup my cheek. It’s the first
touch that we’ve shared in almost a month. My skin warms under him and it feels
like summer rain through my body. Warm and heavy and rolling. I turn my head
and press my nose to his skin. It smells of musk and wood smoke and
him.
It
smells like home
.
And it feels like I’ve just taken my first real breath
in weeks.

“Kitten.”

And every trace of hesitance evaporates. Whatever this is I
can’t walk away and I can’t tell him to leave. We are bound. Always.

The gun slips from my hand as I reach for him. He pulls it
from between us, and our bodies and lips meet. My arms clutch around his neck
and his arm wraps around my waist. He pulls me up around his hips and moves
sideways until I am sitting on the kitchen counter. I hear the clatter of the
gun being put aside before his hands race up under my clothing and through the
neck of my shirt to grab at my hair. The collar tugs back against my neck and
chokes me a little, causing me to moan. His tongue pushes deeper into my mouth
like he’s trying to taste all the noises I make for him. Using my legs hooked
around him I pull him closer until he is pressing against everything that aches
for him. My lips, my heart, my core.

Sweet Jesus. I lose myself in the rush that consumes me. It
has built up and my heart feels like it’s bursting. It escapes as tears from my
eyes.

“You bastard,” I say as I clutch at his hair. “If you ever
leave me again you’d better be dead or I will find you and kill you myself.”

He laughs and softly licks each tear from my cheek and my
jaw. But I am not in the mood for sweet and loving Cade. I thrust my hips
forward and rub at his erection through his jeans. He lets out a curse and I
watch his eyes narrow as his darkness takes over.

Yes. I love all sides of Caden. Even the broken and twisted
parts. And this part of him is the one I want fucking me right now.

I have barely taken another breath when his hands tug my
pajama pants from under me. The laminated bench is cold against my ass and I
hiss. He steps back to pull the material off the ends of my legs. But he
doesn’t throw them to the side. He starts to wind the legs of my pants around
his hands like a rope. I am panting just watching him watching me. There is
nothing I want more right now than to be bound and laid out for him. I press my
thighs together to hide my wet ache from him.

There’s now only a foot of material between his fists. He
steps forward and pushes himself between my knees. My legs separate around his
hips. He places the piece of pant material between his fists around the back of
my neck.

“Put your hands on your head,” he commands.

I comply. The action causes my back to arch and my chest to
stick out and I moan at the pressure of my breasts against my shirt. He glances
down. From his angle he can see all the evidence of my need for him. My hard
nipples through my top and my exposed wetness below, dripping to the counter.
His gaze burns me and I suppress another moan. A devious grin slides across his
face. I want to suck it right off his lips.

His gaze comes up to meet mine. He winds the legs of my
pants around my wrists and starts to tie until, somehow, my wrists are tied to
the back of my neck. With his hands, he pulls my top up and tucks it over my
head until the collar hem sits just across my nose and over my eyes. Through
the thin cotton I can make out his gauzy figure taking up most of the space in
front of me. If I look down I can see a small gap at the bottom of the
material. I can see the tops of my thighs and the triangle of counter between
them.

I feel his wet mouth all over my breasts and hear him
undoing his pants. He bites my nipple and I cry out. The pain is exquisite and
I rock involuntarily on the counter. I need him now. Please, God, don’t let him
tease me.

His hands find my ass and he latches his mouth to mine. Then
he fills me in one swift movement. I am tight around him and it’s almost
painful, but he doesn’t pause before he starts to move. The discomfort quickly
gives way to complete pleasure. We are relentless and ferocious as we thrust
against each other. It’s like we are punishing each other for every last second
that we were apart for the last three weeks. It’s angry and raw and just so
damn beautiful.