Long Ride (Riding with Honor) (7 page)

“Carla Johnson and the boys are even coming along with Carla’s father…
Judge Patterson.  We will go ahead and celebrate Chuck’s birthday on Thanksgiving Day this year even though his birthday isn’t until the 28
th
so we’ll be having cake and ice cream for that too,” Gran finished.

When they all got up to leave, Bobby approached Becca and said,
“I’ll get Chuck to draw up each part while Lilly and I work on the descriptions and we’ll get that to you as soon as possible.”

Lilly
then came over and gave her a hug and then her eyes lit up and taking Becca’s hand she placed it on her stomach which was nothing more than a small bump.  She could feel the movement and she glanced at Dickie.

“Another little shit I can spoil and send home
,” he laughed.

“Remind me when you come by later… I have some papers to show you
,” Gran said quietly as she hugged Becca goodbye.

The car ride back to his house was met with companionable silence.  At some point he had reached over and grabbed her hand, linking her fingers with his. 

He seemed to need to show and receive affection often, which was unusual for any man she knew.  It was growing on her and she found she liked holding his hand. 
Touching him.

Upon entering the house the phone was ringing and he answered it.  It was obvious it was her brother
when Dickie’s gaze went to her face.  “Yea, we just got in.  Well we have a cookout to go to later.  I know how to show a woman a good time,” he said with a grin.  After several seconds he said, “No other problems since the break in… there’s no rush here… she’s fine.  Just catch the bastard and put him back where he belongs.”

Handing her the phone
, he made his way into the kitchen where he began pulling out ingredients for potato salad.  Putting the phone to her ear she said, “Hello.”

“Are you holding up ok there with him?” Greg asked.

“Yea, I’m fine.  I’m even sleeping,” she replied, “without the pills.”

As
Dickie peeled the potatoes, he couldn’t help but listen in on her conversation with her brother though she was obviously trying to keep the volume of her voice down.  This sleeping issue of hers, or lack thereof, had been going on for a while it sounded like.

“I’m not
working
on any cases… really… I’m helping out the guys with a few things but that is mostly all I have going on,” he heard her say as though trying to explain herself.

As much as he’d like to call Greg one day and ask him what it was that had happened to Becca to make her so withdrawn from people… so frightened
… he wouldn’t.  He wanted her to trust him enough that she would willingly share that information.  He wanted that as bad as he wanted her in his arms…
in his bed.

The potatoes started to boil just as she hung up the phone and came into the kitchen.  Pulling out some celery and an onion
, he handed them to her and turned to the butcher block that held his knives.  Sliding one out, he turned around. 

She backed away from him looking as though she had just seen a ghost.  Amazingly she didn’t drop either the celery or the onion but instead had a death grip on them
.  She was visibly shaking.

Setting the knife on the counter
, he moved slowly toward her, “Becca?  What’s wrong, darlin’?”

For the first time she did not deny that something was wrong but instead met his gaze without flinching. 

“I’m sorry… umm, just a memory,” she said after a few moments.

He stared at her for nearly a full minute.  Her expressions changed from fear, to embarrassment, to sadness. 

Taking a deep breath she set the onion and celery on the table and then unbuttoned the top three buttons of her blouse and pushed the collar of it down her shoulder and arm so he could see her upper chest. 

A nasty scar showed right above her left breast… right where her heart would be.  It was not a surgical scar, but a wound… a combat style wound received from someone who had meant to kill her
and might have if the wound had been deeper.

His eyes went back to hers which were now full of tears.  Showing her his palms he approached her and pulled her to him.  She whispered into his shirt
, “I’m so tired of being a victim…”

He was seldom amazed by people, but seeing that someone had purposefully hurt her and yet she continued to be a
defense
attorney made no sense. 

“Who did that to you
, Becca?” he asked quietly.

“My ex-husband
, Brian.  It was the final straw… what convinced me that there was no hope for him or our relationship,” she whispered.

It was like the last remaining pieces of a jigsaw puzzle snapping into place inside of his mind.  She tried desperately to seem like she was always in control, capable, strong and determined.  Over the past few months, he watched her lose hold of that control from time to time and it was usually then that he felt like she was hiding something. 

His military training taught him how to read body language and while her body sent one message, which
his
body completely understood, her mouth said another.  She was no young girl, she was a woman in her prime and her personality was such that coy games were unlikely. 

Then watching how she reacted in different situations he figured she’d been hurt in a previous relationship, but
never
did his mind think it was anything like the scar he’d seen marring her beautiful skin.  She had survived a brutal attack by a man she at one time trusted…
loved
even. 

If that hadn’t been sufficient to make her hesitate when trusting people, then a near stranger wanting to
hurt her was enough to put the mistrust over the top.  If not for her personality she would be a worse ball of nerves than she already was.

As much as he wanted her near him, for her to trust him, to know he would never hurt her and never allow someone else to hurt her, he respected not wanting to be a victim.  He understood the need to feel capable and in control of himself and his environment. 

Her inner spitfire that she gave him glimpses of when she was working wanted an appearance in the personal side of her life as well.  He might not be able to undo the emotional and physical damage her ex-husband had done but he could show her how to defend herself.  Perhaps that would give her back enough of that control she needed.

“If you are tired of being a victim, then it’s time we did something about that.  Have you taken a
self-defense course before?” he asked as he stroked her hair and held her to him.

“No… I… I was too afraid.  I thought I wouldn’t do well enough and rather than defend myself it would just serve to piss off
an attacker even more.  It was a lesson I learned early on in my marriage and I couldn’t get past that… experience,” she said.

“Tomorrow morning you and I are going to go for
an hour long walk.  We’ll do it every morning while you are here.  It’s good exercise and will both limber you up and increase your endurance.  Then tomorrow evening when you are at your weakest and most tired, I will teach you a couple of techniques.  If you can execute them when tired, when you aren’t tired and your adrenaline is pumping it will be that much more effective,” he said.

She nodded and allowed him to hold her for a few more minutes before finally letting loose of his shirt and stepping away from him. 

“The mess he made of my heart, confidence and ability to trust is just as ugly as the scar.  How do I fix that?” she asked quietly.

“Well I can teach you how
to defend yourself, which will build your confidence some, and you already seem to trust me a little bit more than when we first met,” he said.

“
Maybe once you have a little more confidence and can trust a little more… your heart will heal too.  As for your scar, it is a mere distraction when surrounded by the rest of the package.  You are a nicely built, good looking woman, so don’t think that a small imperfection like that has ruined you.  I know my imperfections don’t take away from me… because I catch you looking sometimes,” he finished with a grin. 

T
hen he pulled his shirt up, displaying a scar across his belly from a mission that got a little out of hand.  His scar was deeper and longer and wrapped around his side.  He watched her eyes take in the scar and then meet his gaze. 

She approached him and reaching out she touched the portion of his scar that was exposed.  The touch of her hand on him was nearly his undoing.  Her small fingers gently traced the outline of the scar and he heard himself groan.

“Does it hurt still?” she asked softly.

“No
, but the feel of you touching me is killing me,” he said, closing his eyes as she continued stroking him.

“Should I stop?” s
he asked, placing her other hand on his chest as well and sliding them both up the smooth skin of his abdomen.

“Not unless you
want
to stop.  I was serious when I told you that you could have your way with me.  I will just stand here and endure whatever you do to me.  I’m a big boy, I can take it,” he said with his devil may care grin.

He had surprised her with the knife.  She knew he was cooking but something about the way he had handled the knife had seemed so similar to the night Brian had attacked her.  She had known she couldn’t hide this moment of crazy from him after the incident in the car her first night here. 

His reaction to her scar and the look on his face spoke to her though.  It felt like he understood what it was to have to carry your past around with you in such a physical way.

Was this what he had meant when he’d told her he wasn’t a good man, that he was a machine the United States Government had created?  Was his scar a reminder of his targets… the people he had killed while in the service?  Was he also carrying his past around with him?

She felt a connection with him that was growing stronger the more she was around him, allowing her to do and say things to him that she wouldn’t normally.  Like touching his bare chest while he stood still allowing it.  He was an incredible man with a big heart, a kind soul and an incredible body.  Would he
really
let her have her way with him?

Pushing his shirt up to mid-chest she looked up at him and said
, “Take it off then.”

Stepping back from her
, he seemed to wrap an arm around his middle and pull the shirt off with one hand.  She had felt his warmth and the expanse of his upper body, but seeing the well-defined lines in his chest and stomach and the way his muscles flexed as he moved caught her attention.  He was beautiful… like a chiseled statue in a garden.

“Do your worst
, woman,” he said with a grin.

“You think I won’t?”
she asked smiling back at him.

“I’m
hoping
you will but…?” he said with a small shrug.

“Can you not…”
she started waving her arms at herself.  How could she ask him not to hold on to her too tightly?

“Why don’t I go sit on my hands in that chair over there
?  Would that make it easier?” he asked, pointing at a kitchen chair.

With that he turned off the burner on the stove then walked over to the chair and sat down tucking one large hand underneath each leg.  How he had known that she was intimidated by him, she wasn’t sure, but he hadn’t made her ask the question that she had been choking on. 

Then he looked at her and his gaze seemed to be daring her.  Her body felt the look like a cool breeze that made her stand a little taller and walk toward him with a purpose.

She approached him, reached out and stroked her hand across his shoulder up to his neck and then down his chest and stopped at his stomach.  Glancing at him she noticed him smile at her
.

“Is that all you got?” h
e asked.

“No talking
,” she replied as she placed her hand on his mouth.  His lips burnt her skin even though they hadn’t moved.

He had a unique way of making her feel
sexy.
  He sounded and acted like he would submit to her and that she could use him for her amusement, but at the same time pushed her buttons… to see how far she would go. 
He was a tease.

“Fine, you do all the talking and I’ll just sit here, but if I’m not allowed to talk you will have to tell me what to do… when, where and
if
I can touch you in return.  Or… you could just let me participate and tell me if I do something you don’t like,” he offered pulling his mouth away from her hand.

“I… umm… ok
,” she finally answered after several seconds of silence.

He slowly slid his hands out from underneath his legs and held them out to her.  “Put them where you want them
,” he said, giving her an intense look.

After staring at him for a few seconds she gently guided his hands to her hips and then ran her hands up the muscles in his arms to his shoulders.  She wanted to touch him, feel his skin
, but she also wanted to taste him.  So leaning forward she pressed an open mouth kiss where his shoulder and neck met.  He shivered at her soft touch and his grip tightened slightly before relaxing.

As she pulled away from him he reached up and put his hand on her face
.  Leaning forward he kissed her while pulling her to stand in between his legs.  His mouth… his smell… the feel of his hand on her hip and his very nearness were wreaking havoc on her senses. 

She moved closer to him kissing him back as good as she got.  His hands moved up from her waist and finished unbuttoning her shirt, which he pulled off and
tossed on the table.

His hands were big enough that they stretched nearly all the way around her waist and felt like they were branding her skin with fire.  Breaking the kiss
, he pulled her even closer and stretched up to place an open mouthed kiss on her scar.

“Should I stop now?” h
e whispered against her skin.

Her legs were shaking with the effort to remain standing before him as her blood heated and rushed
toward the very center of her.  Everything he did only made her skin more sensitive, including whispering. 

Her heart knew that even though he was
capable
of violence, the violence…
the rage
… didn’t
control
him.  He was in control of himself and allowed her to be in control of herself.

He wasn’t the type of man who would hit a woman in anger.  He was sure of himself and his capabilities but had no desire and no need to impress upon someone else that he was meaner, tougher or better. 

She remembered Tommy telling her Dickie didn’t go to bars so he wasn’t a big drinker.  She had yet to see him mad or even in a poor mood.  He was steady, and stable… someone she could be herself with and she wanted him.

“No… love me… please
,” she finally whispered back.

“I already do…”
he said, standing slowly and taking her hand.  He led her to his room.

Facing the bed she stared…
could she do this?
  After all these years, could she open herself up… share herself intimately with a man… with
him?
  Then his response to her request broke through the haze in her brain. 
Had he just said he loved her?

Turning to look at him
, her eyes were drawn to the outline of his body where he stood in the doorway to the bedroom with his arms stretched above his head holding on to the broken doorframe.  He was watching her battle with herself and just waiting… that was his way.  He looked much younger than her at the moment… all tousled and sexy.

“Did you say…?” s
he asked

“Yes… I said that I love you.  That day you got out of the cab at the shop, to meet with Lilly and Bobby, I was sunk right then and there.  Then when you went to bat for Tommy and little Melody I knew you were made of more than a nice set of legs and a pretty rack.  Watching you whipping Chuck into shape for court I got to see the fire you try so hard to hide.
I love everything about you…” he said looking at her.

“You’re smart, funny, sweet, sexy and stunning to look at…
your eyes burn me when they watch me.  Do you know what you do to me when I catch you looking at me?  I don’t expect you to feel that way about me… I’m no prize and I know that.  I just hope it doesn’t put you off for me to say those things to you.  So if you haven’t changed your mind I
will
love you…I’ll love you
real
good,” he said.

He couldn’t possibly mean all those things but they were
so
nice to hear.  No shouting, no anger, no feeling of duty or responsibility… just an endearing and honest baring of his feelings. 

She could swear she heard a small chunk of the wall around her heart give way.  Walking over to him she didn’t stop until she was in his arms…
kissing him without holding back. 

He didn’t always get things right but he’d done something right this time.  She was on fire, pulling at him as though desperate for his touch and for the first time in more than twenty years he let himself feel
all
of it.  The excitement of intimacy with a woman he actually liked, the joy in his heart that it was
her
in his arms… that she wanted him. 

Even the knowledge that she didn’t return his feelings didn’t stop him from letting the
emotions overwhelm him.  He was setting himself up for heartache but his heart had been held captive for so long it was racing away from the prison his life had become.

She somehow managed to get out of her clothes while continuing to kiss him with enough passion and heat to burn him alive.  He couldn’t remember wanting a woman so badly… but she fired his blood on so many levels all he could do was go with it. 

Feeling her small hands at the button on his pants his eyes opened and he reached down and helped her unfasten them. 
God!
  She was naked before him and she was everything he’d imagined and more.

He liked women with a little more meat on them
, not skin and bones, and though she was short and slender in most areas, she had padding in the areas he liked.  Her breasts were heavy and full and her hips were nicely rounded.  He wanted to slow down and take a good look but she was having none of it.

Her fragile hand slid inside the front of his pants and wrapped around him
.  Suddenly he was panting worse than during a workout.  “Becca… we have to slow this down… it’s been a while for me,” he managed to choke out as her hand worked magic on his overheated body.

“I can’t… it’s been even longer for me I’m sure… I need you
,” she said, kissing him again as she pushed his pants down his hips.

Hell!
  He would just make it up to her next time… if she would let him.

Pulling his jeans off with one hand while holding
onto her with the other, he managed to tumble them backwards and onto the bed.  She was gasping for air and whimpering when he realized a condom lay in his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans. 
Damn!

Breaking the kiss he said
, “Give me one second?” 

He wasn’t aware he could still move that fast but he managed to get his wallet
.  As he made it back to the bed, she knelt on her knees in the middle of the mattress looking like some sort of sexy goddess with her blonde hair, amazing eyes and mouth. 

As he moved onto the bed she was once again kissing him
, pulling his face down so she could reach his mouth. 
This
is what he expected from her…
too hot to handle
… not the timid shy woman she’d been since all this started with the crazy ex-con stalking her.

He managed to get the condom on as she moved to lie back down.  Reaching up she pulled him on top of her and right where she wanted him. 
Oh God yes…

The feel of him at her entrance had her writhing beneath him… her body begging him for completion.  She really had been starving for affection and her body was greedy for it now…
as was her heart.
 

He nudged into her slightly and rather than forcing himself past her body’s resistance to his invasion
, he reached between their bodies and touched her.  Lifting her hips she tried to relax and adjust to his size but he simply pulled back from her again and continued touching her heated flesh with his fingers.

By the time he was fully seated within her she was moaning and pulling at his shoulder
with one hand and pulling his hips down to her with the other.  She hated being so desperate for his touch but couldn’t seem to help herself. 

He rocked into her
, moving his hips against her with long, steady strokes until all the sensations and emotions came together creating an explosion in her. 

“Mmm… Dickie… again
,” she breathed against his neck as the explosion settled to aftershocks of pleasure.  She tried to keep from digging her nails into his skin but the sensations he created were like a cool drink of water after walking across a desert.

He let out what she thought was a groan and continued with the long strokes until she cried out again even louder than before then he follow
ed her into oblivion. 

His weight on her, the feel of being wrapped around his large frame was heaven or at least a glimpse of it.  She was almost sorry that she’d let her fear rush this thing between them.  He tried to pull away from her but she wrapped her legs around his waist and held him to her. 
Not yet.

“I was all settled in for the long ride I thought it would take to get you to let me… be with you
,” he said after they managed to catch their breath. “Thank you for not making me wait any longer.  I’ve dreamed of it since that first day I saw you.”

He rolled onto his side
, pulling her with him, so they were face to face lying on their sides still connected.

All those things he had said to her over the past few months… he had been
serious
… oh he had laughed when he said it and teased… but he
meant
it.  Sex with him hadn’t been bothersome, dull or painful.  It had been
wonderful
.  She felt tears burn her eyes… if she had met Dickie twenty five years ago rather than Brian how different the past decade might have been.