Silent Scars (Surviving #4) (20 page)

“The sand!” he shouted, and his entire body shook. I jumped to my feet and did the only thing I knew how to do. I grabbed the glass of water he had given me last night and poured it over him. He paused momentarily before diving at me. I screamed, but he never touched me. He grabbed the glass and placed it to his lips. The desperation in his eyes at drinking from an empty glass gutted me.

“Ryan, I need you to move.” I braced my feet on the floor and pulled at his shirt. The poor material creaked and groaned and threatened to tear.

“I just wanted to come home. I was ready to come home,” he sobbed into the floor. I stopped pulling. He sniffed and curled his hands into fists. “But they abandoned me. They left me behind,” he uttered. The sound echoed around the room. I slowly dropped to my knees and crawled across the floor to him. Reaching out my hand, I was so close to touching him before I paused and considered his state of mind.

“I’m going to touch you, is that okay?”

He whimpered, but didn’t protest. I gently laid my hand on his back. The muscles beneath my palm tensed; slowly I rubbed small circles until he relaxed. “I’m here. I’m not leaving.” I grimaced at the stupid words. How bloody ridiculous could one person be?

I sucked in a breath when his body twisted, and he laid his head in my lap. His arms banded around me so tightly it was verging on painful. I wanted to get him into the shower to see if I could wash this imaginary sand off him, but I didn’t dare move. I ran my fingers over his beanie.

A deep groan reverberated up his throat, and he lifted his face to press it against my stomach.

“You smell clean.” His hands clutched at my back, and I winced when he nipped my skin in his desperation to get closer. “I can never be clean. The stench is always there, deep in my skin. The putrid stench. They touch me; they make me do things. I don’t want to touch them.” His voice was so utterly broken tears welled in my eyes.

“Let’s get you showered. Come with me.” I slid my hands around my back and entwined our fingers, relieving the stinging he was causing by clinging to me. If he resisted, I had no idea what I could try to bring him out of this – nightmare? He appeared awake, but I knew it wasn’t
Ryan.

Bracing my hands on the floor behind me, I shuffled my body from under his and deftly stood. He glanced up at me. The pale blank stare he cast my way nearly had me crumbling to my knees.

“Trust me.” I held out my hand and waited for him to accept. Tears prickled my eyes as I waited. He kneeled before me, his shoulders slumping, eyes awash with pain. I wanted to howl and cry for the broken piece of perfection before me. What monsters would do this to him? I wanted to leap inside his mind, attack his demons, and take away all of his pain.

Slowly he raised his hand and placed it inside mine. There was no way I could lift him so I tugged to let him know I needed him on his feet. With great effort he climbed. Watching him stagger, I could see his body was exhausted, drained of energy from his night terror. Or whatever the hell that was, because right now my brain couldn’t process anything. I walked backwards holding both his hands in mine, and the sweet broken man followed me.

I twisted the knob on the shower to hot and continued to walk backwards until I was standing under the water. The cold shock of the water had me gasping, but I didn’t care. It didn’t matter I was in my pyjama’s or that Ryan was still fully clothed. I needed some way to bring him out of this weird trance. The water hit his skin, and he closed his eyes and slowly tilted his head back. The contented sigh that escaped his lips was a pure sign I had made a positive move. Releasing his hands, I grabbed the hem of his shirt and lifted it. He yanked it over his head when I couldn’t reach. He unsnapped the buckle on his belt and button on his jeans before letting them fall to the floor. I averted my gaze from the two incredibly toned thighs and chastised myself for sneaking a glimpse at his underwear clad package. He ran his hands through his hair and opened his mouth, filling it with water. A small smile played at the corners of his lips.

Realising I was standing fully clothed in a shower with my semi-naked bodyguard, I glanced around for something to do. I grabbed the sponge and shower gel and squirted way too much on before pressing it to his solid chest. He winced as the cold gel hit his hot skin. I offered him an apologetic grin before rubbing the sudsy sponge over his chest. The water immediately rinsed away the bubbles, but the smooth glide of the sponge over his broad chest was hypnotic. I stepped closer and circled his tight nipples. God, I wanted to lean forward and taste one with my tongue.

Way to take advantage.

I winced and ducked my gaze from his body. Shame washed over me, at my arousing thoughts when he was in such a weakened state. I circled the sponge once more before pulling my hand away, but just as I moved, he pressed his hand over mine and captured it against his skin. With slow sweeping circles he continued to use my hand to move the sponge over his body. I lifted my head to stare into his eyes. They darkened to a captivating royal blue. His thick lashes were speckled with water, his tan skin covered in water gleamed. Dark, wet, and so bloody tempting. I licked the water from my lips, wishing it were his mouth I was licking. His hand tightened around mine, and he stepped into me. His warm naked body leaned against mine. I wasn’t wearing underwear, so I knew if he looked down, he would see my nipples. They were vying for his attention, desperate for him to take them in his mouth.

He pinned me against the tiles. The cold was a sudden jolting shock to my system. I braced my hands against the wall and gasped, unable to hide my reaction to the cold and the heat in his gaze. I tried to control my breathing so I didn’t sound like a swooning idiot, desperately hoping he would touch me.

His focus lowered so slowly it was like a physical caress. My nipples tightened and ached at his blazing gaze on them. My body screamed at me to arch into him, to offer myself to him. But with an iron will I had no idea I possessed, I remained with my back flush against the cold tiles. My body hummed with arousal. My mouth watered with the need to taste him. I pressed my hands firmly against the tiles and clawed at them for traction. I was sure I would melt in a puddle from the heat in his gaze. 

“I love this part of you,” he whispered and pressed his finger tip to the hollow at the base of my throat. I bit down hard on my lip to stop the whimper forcing its way free. “What would it be like to taste you?”

“Ryan,” I sobbed because it would break me when he finally roused from this trance he was in. I was certain he would stop, and he would hate me for taking advantage of him.

“Are you my salvation, tiny dancer? Will you fix me?” He leaned forward and inhaled. I grasped his shoulders, mewling as his breath brushed over my wet skin. It tightened and prickled with goose bumps. I choked out a gasp when his tongue lapped at the hollow, followed with the blunt tips of his fingers. He was mapping my skin, branding me with his touch.

“Heaven. Has God finally granted me death and given me an angel?” he murmured against my skin before licking my throat. I swallowed hard and moaned when his teeth scraped against my pulse.

“It has been so long.” He rolled his hips against me, and the thick length of him pressed against my stomach. “You make me so fucking hard. I take my fist to it, imagining it’s your hot pussy wrapped tightly around it.”

When he lowered his hips and pressed thrust against my core, I whimpered loudly and clutched his hips to stop him. I couldn’t do this, not if he hated me afterwards.

“Ryan.”

He dipped his head, and through my transparent shirt he took one nipple between his teeth and pulled. I yelped and clutched the back of his head. My betraying body throbbed and sought out his attention. I rocked my hips against him and keened at the delicious sensation pulsing through me. His hands roamed my body, and my brain short-circuited. I couldn’t think with the overload of sensations. When his fingers slid into my shorts, panic consumed me. I couldn’t do this to him.

“Ryan, no. Stop!” I gasped. “Oh please, stop,” I pleaded, whereas my body screamed at me to shut the fuck up and wrap my legs around him. He stepped away from me, panting as heavily as I was, and glared down at me. I pressed my head back against the tiles. My legs wouldn’t hold my weight any longer, so I slowly slid down the wall to sit on the floor. Only problem I faced now was I was sitting directly in front of his hard cock. The magnificent erection I wanted to take in my mouth and milk dry. I screwed my eyes shut tightly and muttered an apology.

“Don’t fucking apologise,” he roared, and I snapped my eyes open, shocked at the anger in his tone.

“I didn’t mean it that way.”

“I don’t need your pity,” he snarled. “You threw yourself at me tonight. In the cold sober light of day, you decided you needed more than a pity fuck?” His snarl both terrified me and jolted a fierce anger within me.

I struggled to stand, and the bastard held out his hand to help me. I slapped it away and glared at him. “Firstly, you pigheaded prick, I was
trying
to do the right thing. Had I let this continue and we
fucked
in the shower, you would have hated me when you came to your senses. Are you a pity fuck? No. Are you a man I am seriously attracted to? Yes. Would I willingly climb you like a monkey up a tree and ride you so hard I forgot how to spell my own bloody name? Yes. Am I taking your shit? Hell no.” I pressed my hands against his naked chest and pushed him out of my way. Soaking wet, in more than one sense, I trudged back to my room. Angry. Aroused and feeling so bloody stupid for stopping what could have been the most outstanding orgasm of my entire life.

Pulling my wet shirt off, I grumbled at the sopping wet patch on my carpet. I tucked my thumbs in my shorts and was ready to pull them down when my door opened and banged against the wall.

“You don’t...” He paused when he caught sight of me standing there topless. Well, bollocks to him; it wasn’t like he couldn’t see through my top in the shower. And he’d had his mouth on me. I launched the wet rag at him and screamed at him to get out.

He caught it and held it out to me, like I hadn’t just completely lost my damn mind.

“Put it on, while we talk.”

“Talk? I don’t want to talk. Get out.”

“No. What happened in there –”

“Was a mistake, I know. I got the memo.”

“Christ, woman, shut up for once and listen,” he demanded. I gaped at him, because seriously, did he just tell me to shut up?

“You’re young.”

“I’ve already heard enough. Get out.” I pointed and grabbed the door to close it, but he stepped inside my room.

“This isn’t a game. I’m not some pet project you can fix, Aloura. Trust me, pussy is definitely not a fix-all.”

Laughter bubbled up and burst free. I covered my mouth, but I turned manic. Everything from the last few hours came to the surface and cracked me wide open. I sucked in a cleansing breath when my throat hurt from laughter.

“Do not insult me, Ryan. I wanted you as much as your cock evidently wanted me. I stopped it because you were coming down from some kind of anxiety attack. I have no idea what changed or whether you were with
me
in there, so I stopped it. I didn’t want you to think I had taken advantage. Now you’re just being an arse. You get angry and defensive so that is why the insults have started. And I’m not listening to you try and tear me down so you can add one more thing to the list of things you hate about yourself.”

“So you’re a psychologist now?” he quipped.

“Not even close. But I know you’re scared. Something haunts you, and it isn’t just the war. I wasn’t going to touch you when clearly you weren’t in there with me
.
I refuse to be another one added to the list of people who hurt you.”

His brow furrowed, and his face darkened. Had I not known the inherent protectiveness in his heart, I would have been terrified right now.

“You know nothing, little girl.” He stepped close to me, and everyone of my instincts urged me to step back, but I squared my shoulders and held my ground. It didn’t escape me that I was trying to appear menacing while my boobs were swinging free.

As he prowled towards me, his body seemed to grow, became intimidating and large.

“What do you know of life, safely tucked away in your dream castle?”

“Oh here we go. Change the freaking record.”

“You want to know what’s inside my head? You want to open me up and scrape out the bad.” His face was so close to mine I could feel the heat of his breath. I shivered, but not from cold and being naked. It was the ice in his glare.

“That’s all there is. I’m fucking dead inside.”

“No, you’re not.”

“If you’re that desperate for someone to fuck you, get on the bed give me your ass and shut your mouth, so I can at least pretend it’s someone I want to fuck.”

I gasped at his shattering words. But I wouldn’t let it inside. He was pushing me away because I had gotten too close.

“You’re running scared. Well, you’ve finally met someone who isn’t afraid to chase you down.” He lifted his chin and released a maniacal laugh.

“Sweetheart, don’t flatter yourself. I’m only here because my brother pays me a damn good wage. If I thought he wouldn’t get shit for it, I would pack my stuff and walk out within the hour. You are not worth this hassle.”