The Courage to Love, page 21
Ian fell backward. His head hit the rocks and he didn’t move.
She screamed and screamed. She couldn’t stop. Ian wasn’t moving. She heard Smith, knew she should do something—anything—but she was on her knees with Ian’s head pressed to her chest. She hugged him tight, willing him to be alive. Tears burned her eyes. Her heart was ripped out. It had to be because she was in agony.
Smith grabbed her by the hair, trying to drag her away, but the pain was nothing compared to losing Ian. She held on to him, refusing to let go. Smith shook her and shouted, but it was distant to Ian’s still body, his warm skin pressed to hers.
A horrible crash startled another scream from her. She clung to Ian. Fear had her trembling and she didn’t want to see what had happened but she forced her eyes open. Smith was no longer standing. Two fierce-looking men in black were crouched over him. Another walked toward her but squatted a few feet away. His face was pockmarked but handsome in a hard, savage way. He was dangerous, like Ian, when he’d shot the men chasing them.
He nodded to her husband. “He’s wearing a vest.”
She clung to Ian harder, even as the man’s calm tone eased something tight inside her chest.
“He’s not dead. You need to let him go so I can check his vitals, though.”
Ian isn’t dead. He’s alive. She sobbed in a painful breath, then another and another, then pressed her face to Ian’s. There, against her cheek, she felt his warm, even breath. “Oh God, Ian. Oh God… Oh God.”
“I think it’s more ‘Oh, fuck, oh fuck, wake up,’ right?” the man said.
She jerked upright, unsure she’d heard him.
He cracked a smile that erased the cold hardness from his narrow features. “He hit his head, huh?”
She wiped her tears. Her hands were trembling. “What?”
The man tapped his own head behind his ear. “Soft spot. Always told him that was one weakness that’d kick his ass.”
“You’re—”
“Call me Boss.”
She shook her head, hugging Ian tighter.
Boss grinned and his terrifying solemnness slipped away. “Most women say the same. How about Lee looking at you, then? It might be a good idea if you calm down. You’re about ready to hyperventilate.”
She did as he said, but didn’t release Ian as Lee checked Ian’s neck, then his pulse on his wrist. After a few more breaths, she saw more of the world—the men over by Smith, the color in Ian’s face, his pulse along his tan throat. She kissed him on the temple, where he always brushed kisses to her.
“What happened? Why was Smith down here?” A phone ringing had Lee and the other two men turning to face Smith. “Is that his phone? Get it,” she cried, thinking fast. If Devon thought they had her… “It’s got to be Devon. Say you have me. Say whatever…but convince him.”
All three men merely stared at her. Not one of them moved, not even a muscle.
“Did you hear me?”
“We heard you, ma’am.” Lee turned his attention on the other two men. “What do you think?”
From her arms, Ian moved.
“Ian?”
“Yeah, I’m here.” He squeezed her hand. “Listen to her. She’s brilliant.”
“Oh God, oh God, please don’t die.” She buried her face to his warmth and tried to make the world stop spinning.
“It’s okay, baby. I’m okay.” He tried to sit, but she hated the way he winced in pain. His color was wrong, too, and there was a bruise on his high cheekbone and a cut on his lip. But he’s alive.
“Vests suck ass,” he muttered, reaching up to his collar and beginning to unstrap the black Velcro.
She had no idea what to say. All she could do was stare at him as he began working on the vest with one hand. He had hold of her with the other. Footsteps, someone running, had her jerking upright. Dare. His face was hard, colder than before. He took in the scene with a thoroughness that sent her panic down a notch.
Dare stepped closer. “The phone, Steel.”
She blinked over at Dare, not sure she’d heard him right. “That’s all you say? Phone, Steel? He’s been shot!”
Dare paused, cast the men an odd look, then nodded to her with exaggerated care. “I can see that. Steel, what do we do about the phone?”
The phone. She heard it again then, as if talking about it made the dull ringing sound make sense. Ian stared at her, but only for a moment before he shouted over to them. “Do it. She’s right. Either fake you’re Smith or be one of his men. Convince the sorry mother—Convince him you have Nicole and you’re bringing her in.”
Lee threw his hands up. “Hell, if we do that—”
“It’s gotta be done. Answer the damn phone,” Ian argued then turned to Andy and said, “This is Casper.”
“Cut the chatter, boys.” Casper, who was not pale like the ghost, picked up the phone. He didn’t say hello. He barked, “Yeah?” He paused, rolled his eyes then scanned the area, walked over and slowly sat down on a log with a long, tired-sounding sigh. “Smith’s dead. I’ve got her. She’s in my truck. Yeah, I know. Shit sucks but when it rains shit, what do you expect? Still want her or should I throw her in the Seine?”
She lifted her eyebrows at that and sought Ian’s gaze. He shook his head. “He likes to play around.”
“He’s getting it done,” Dare assured them, walking over.
“You need a hospital,” she whispered to Ian, not letting go of him. If they know I’m alive, what does that mean? Does it mean I have to be Nicole again? I can’t. I can’t.
“Calm down a bit,” Ian whispered. “There’s no going back now, only forward.”
She nodded, wiping a tear off when Ian grimaced and curled his hand around the back of her head to bring her up against his shoulder. “I don’t want to be her again.”
“You won’t. Count on me.”
“God, Ian, you—”
“Not now. Let’s listen to Casper do his magic.”
“All right, that means you want her?” Casper was saying, giving them the thumbs up. “Well, then I have to tell you, it’s gonna be double. Smith is dead. Hell, everyone is dead. That means a new crew and more, new vehicles. All right then, we’re solid. Don’t be late. I hate that shit. Smith was a lame motherfucker, but I— Yeah, all right, padre. I’ll be there. You can bank on it.” He grimaced and mocked slicing his throat, then hung up with another confirmation he’d be there. “Sick. Wants some pretty rough stuff with you, Andy. I suggest we go in, shoot his ass and call it done.”
She stared at him, then over at Boss, Lee and Dare. Dare gave her a grin as if to say, why not? Ian groaned and pushed up from the ground, gaining his feet with a lot of heavy breathing. She crawled to hers and watched, unsure if he’d fall. He didn’t.
“We’re going to do that, and when we do, I want to kick his head in a few times to be certain.”
“Ian! Are you…serious?”
He winced again and turned to her. “As I’ll ever be, but I suppose we’ll have to drag his candy ass to jail the proper way.”
“I’m cool with shooting his ass, compadre,” Casper called.
The men chuckled, but she didn’t have the heart. She took Ian’s hand and held it as tight as she could. He squeezed hers, too, and settled an arm over her shoulder. “I’m getting too old for this shit. Let’s get to a hotel. How long?”
“Six hours.”
Six hours. She bit her lip, feeling as if things were moving too fast.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ian grimaced and shifted in his chair. The hotel they’d found was nice enough, but no amount of rest was going to speed up his recovery. Each time he moved, his ribs gave a scream. Even breathing too deeply was a pain in the ass.
“Probably broken,” Dare said.
“No, bruised.” The bullets hadn’t killed him, thanks to the vest, but the close range had done a number. He ached all over.
Andy bit her lip. She’d been doing that far too much. As soon as Dare moved back from assessing his ribs, she landed on her knees next to him. “I want to talk to you. Alone.”
“Alone?” He blinked because she’d also dug her nails into his thighs, pretty damn fiercely, too. “I need to talk to Andy. Alone,” he clarified.
“What? We have shit to plan, Steel.” Boss crossed his arms. “This is not the time or the place to get distracted.”
Casper hooked his thumbs in his belt loops, stubborn face on. “No way, Jose. We have a shit ton of—”
“He said alone. Now, if you don’t mind, go. I want to see my husband, and after thinking I lost him, I don’t need to hear how you want to chance me losing him again.”
Every one of his buddies froze. Dare was the first to nod. He got up and smiled. “Got that crystal clear. I’ll go call my little woman. You two coming?”
Casper and Lee didn’t budge.
Dare’s grin grew, but he lifted his hand to Andy and met his eyes. “Steel, you did good. Keep it up.” He headed out, laughing softly. He gets it. He’s married. He knows.
The other two stared.
Andy tensed, clearly getting ready to blow. Ian knew exactly how she felt. And if he had his way, he’d have her in his arms, trying to calm her down, but the two buddies he’d known since he was a shit-kicking teenager too tough for his own good didn’t budge. He sat back and waited. Andy was many things, but she wasn’t about to let two men, all bigger, badder and—they thought—tougher than her, get away with their macho crap.
Casper especially would think that his scowl was going to send her scurrying for cover. “You didn’t like that? Thinking he was dead? Yeah, shit never feels as good when it lands on you.”
Andy didn’t even blink. She patted his leg as if to reassure him then put on what he thought of as her ‘kick ass and take no prisoners’ face. He’d discovered that spirit when he’d found her again. He didn’t grin, but Boss tossed him a questioning frown then focused on Andy, as if reassessing her.
“Is that so? Well, considering that I don’t let shit land on me, I have no idea. But go on, waste my time explaining how shit feels when your face is in it.”
Boss whistled. Mistake. She turned to him, but Casper wasn’t done.
“Did you even think what Steel would go through, thinking you dead?”
“Are you married, Mr. Casper?”
Casper didn’t respond, but Ian grinned. The ‘mister’ was too damn cute not to. Boss gave him another quizzical glance, but Ian sobered up.
“I didn’t think so,” Andy sniffed. “But for one moment—one—can you imagine a woman, a woman you love so deeply that it feels equally terrifying and fucking terrific?”
Ian felt that, knew now that Andy felt the same way.
“Now, picture her in glossy color, in your bed, on your sheets, fucking another man. Imagine that, how her head is thrown back in that climax you thought only you gave her. Now think about how that feels. It hurts. It feels like…like she’s killed you, taken your heart and ripped it out.”
She was breathless now, and so was he. He’d let her down, hurt her and she loved him even more than before—truly loved him, not wished she could. I’m never losing her. Never going to let a day pass without letting her know how much I love her.
By the hang-dog expressions on both his buddies’ mugs, they finally understood.
But Andy wasn’t done. “Now, tell me. Do you think if I’ve forgiven that, that I haven’t taken my husband back? Do you think for one minute I needed to feel my heart ripped out again, thinking that I’d lost the one person in this world I love so much it felt like my heart was bleeding at my feet again?”
Ian took her hand and tugged, but she didn’t move. She hadn’t shouted, but both men now looked shame-faced and damn sorry. Casper was the last out of the door. He turned and fixed Ian with a look. “Don’t waste this second chance.” To Andy, he warned, “I’ll give you one hour.”
“Three,” Andy countered.
Casper shook his head. “Hombre, you are one lucky bastard. Two…and I’m not knocking. I’m using my key.” He shut the door, but Andy raced to it, locked it and turned back to face him. He couldn’t make sense of her expression. It was clouded with something. Pain? Fear? Excitement?
All at once, as if her legs gave out, she slid down the door, wrapped her arms around her knees and cried so hard that her shoulders shook.
He made it to her within seconds. His heart was in his throat. The need to stop her pain, to soothe her, was so overpowering that all he could do was whisper to her as he held her to his chest.
She clung to him like he might disappear. Her body trembled, her shoulders heaved and he felt the wetness of her tears. Desperate, but understanding that this had to get out, he continued to cradle her to him. He ran his hand over her hair, over and over, trying to calm her as best he could by telling her how much he loved her and wasn’t letting her go.
When the tears were gone, when nothing else remained, Andy felt as if something—or maybe someone—had left with them. Her fear, maybe. Her fear of this man not loving her.
She pulled away enough to meet his eyes. They were red-rimmed, tired, but steady. “I can’t do this, Ian. I thought I could.”
“You can. If I can, you can,” he teased, brushing her hair back.
It was more honest than she wanted. She wanted him to give her the okay, the easy out because she was a girl. The ‘okay if she changed her mind, okay if they didn’t do this’ speech. Instead, he’d given her the one thing she couldn’t argue against.
His love.
How did I ever feel insecure? Ever think for one minute he didn’t love me?
She sat straighter and grabbed hold of his belt buckle. “I want to suck your cock. Right now.”
Ian groaned in that way she knew so well. She bit her lip to hold in her own. His erection blossomed under his jeans. She could see it. Watching it swell was so exciting she couldn’t wait.
She practically broke his zipper getting it down. She pulled out the heavy, warm weight of him with a low, hungry moan. She couldn’t help it. The sound erupted at the sight of his cock. Her mouth watered. He’d hardened quickly, growing thicker and longer until the brown skin was stretched tight. She sucked the head into her mouth and cupped his balls, feeling how they drew right up in her palm.
“I… I’m not… Oh, hell yes, going to last,” he whispered, sounding as turned on as she was. She couldn’t help it. She didn’t care if he came too quickly, only that she had his strength and flavor in her mouth. It was elemental, necessary—the musky manliness of him as he shifted and groaned again, growing too big for her mouth to handle. That was what she needed.
He caressed the hair back from her face. The tension in his body increased to that point where she could tell that all his muscles were flexed. His flavor grew stronger, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t. She took him faster and faster, pacing herself to his pleasure.
He began to thrust upward, unable to stop himself, she knew. It was so exciting that she could barely stand it. When his balls were pulled up tight and hard, she caressed her thumb over the furrowed skin of his testicles and felt him shudder. He thrust so hard that his cock surged as far as she could take him, but she still didn’t stop him. She wanted it. Him. He’s mine. Always. Forever. Mine.
She twisted her hands on his cock in rhythm with how she sucked repeatedly over that sensitive spot under the rounded head.
Ian went completely still then groaned heavily. A rhythmic thud—his head hitting the wall—was her only other warning before his salty flavor filled her mouth. She choked on the first pulse but was ready for the next. His fingers had a death grip on her hair. But she knew that when she finished with him, he was going to make love to her with no problem at all.
“Andy, sweet God.”
She slipped her mouth up his still-pulsing shaft and saw it was him hitting his head on the door that was making the sound. Laughter spilled out of her, along with a bit of his cum. She covered her mouth and laughed harder, stroking him now because she couldn’t not touch him when he was still experiencing pleasure.
“I love your mouth on me—anywhere, anyhow,” he panted out.
“I love that you do,” she whispered and let him pull her toward him. When they were inches apart, he suddenly hugged her so tight to him she could barely breathe.
“You’re not losing me and I’m sure the hell not losing you.”
“It was that good?” she teased, sneaking her arms around him and holding on to his muscled back.
As predicted, he laughed, but it was short. “I want to make our lives filled with happiness. Overflowing with it, like you make me.”
He released her enough for her to see his smile grow. “And yes, it was that good. Damn, I think I almost passed out.” Without warning, he moved.
“Ian!” She landed—gently—flat on her back with Ian between her legs, taking her pants down. He shifted his out of the way with a few hilarious kicks, then seemed to give up. She didn’t know or care because he was doing magic again with his hot mouth. She didn’t scream but she wanted to. Instead, she tightened her fingers in his silky hair to keep him in place—not that he was going anywhere. He had too tight a grip on her thighs.
“Yes, oh God, yes.” She clutched his hair then tugged. “I need you. Now!”
He reared up. His belt made a loud clank on something as he ripped his shirt off. His chest was bruised, but before she could focus on that, he wrapped his hand around his cock and positioned it at her pussy. She loved the sight of them—her pale skin against his tan flesh. So feminine and so masculine. He was on the verge of claiming her and she never wanted the moment to end, unless there were a million more moments just like it.
“Yours. I’m yours, Ian.” She reached down and covered his hand. He froze and met her eyes. There was sweat on his brow. His face was flushed, and he had never looked more handsome to her. “And you’re mine,” she whispered fiercely, taking hold of his head to pull his face closer so she could kiss him.
