Pieces of Me Read online

  I thought of my irrational need to make sure there was enough Aquafina in the house and how I couldn’t sleep unless everything in my house was arranged just so.

  “A freak,” I whispered.

  “Shadow, honey…”

  Rising, I shook my head, gathering up my supplies. “I was married to a clean-cut, well-off type before. Belonged to one of the oldest families in Boston,” I said. It took everything I had in me to keep my voice steady, to keep it level. “And he practically killed me.”

  I looked up as I delivered those final words, watched her flinch, saw the blood drain out of her face. “I think it’s safe to say I’ve been married to a freak…and he turned me into one as well. Whatever I have going on with Jenks…” I stopped, sucked in a breath. I had to get myself under control because I felt like screaming. I didn’t even know why I was suddenly so angry, but it was there, burning, bubbling under the surface. “Whatever it is going on, I don’t know. But it’s something real. It’s something that makes me feel like I’m alive again.”

  Seth came off the table, reaching out. His fingers brushed my sleeve. “Shadow, wait.”

  I shot him a look. “Not right now.”

  “Marla didn’t mean to hurt you.” His eyes held mine. “We love you, you know that.”

  “Yes.” I jerked my head in a nod. That was one thing I did know, one thing I did trust. “But I’m tired of hiding. I’m tired of living inside a bubble and I’m tired of protecting myself, having you all protect me. No, I don’t know everything there is to know about Jenks, but I know that he doesn’t make me shut down in fear and he’s not trying to control me. That counts for something.”

  “It counts for a lot.” He shot for a smile. It didn’t quite reach his eyes. Marla had moved off the table and stood next to him, looking miserable. I didn’t care.

  I just wanted to get Jenks and leave.

  The warmth of the sunshine, the peace of the ocean, had lost their appeal for me now.

  “We just don’t want you to get hurt.” Seth held out his hand.

  I caught his, squeezed. “I’ve already been hurt. What can anybody do to me than Stefan didn’t do?”

  Pulling the strap of my bag over my shoulder, I turned, headed down the beach. It felt odd. Walking this way. This direction didn’t lead toward the false safety of my home.

  It led toward Jenks and he was already on his feet, rising to meet me.

  But nothing felt more right than when I put my hand in his.

  His eyes glanced past me to study the table where I’d been sitting. I didn’t know if Seth and Marla were still there or not. I didn’t bother to look just then because I didn’t care. Leaning in, I pressed my head to his chest and sighed, breathing in the scent of surf and sun and him.

  “You want to head back to my place?”

  “Yeah.”

  He nuzzled my neck, his fingers resting on my hip and I looked up, my lips parted to say something.

  His gaze lowered, resting on my mouth.

  And all the words inside my head died.

  “Back to my place…” He murmured, his thumb slipping under the hem of my shirt. “When do you need to get to work?”

  “Ahhh…” I blinked, tried to think. My computer hadn’t been touched during the break-in and we’d spent last night setting it up in his spare bedroom. “By one.” My voice was hoarse now and getting more ragged all the time.

  “That’s plenty of time, then.”

  “For what?”

  A wicked grin lit his face. “You’ll see.”

  I’d see…

  Yeah, I could see, all right.

  He sprawled out underneath me, the two of us tucked in the little L of his deck so that nobody from the beach could see us unless they actually came up onto the wooden planks.

  Somehow, I didn’t see them doing that.

  Which was a good thing.

  Exhibitionism wasn’t a kink I wanted to indulge in.

  All the fantasies I had, they needed to stay tucked inside my head, but Jenks had a way of reaching inside and pulling them out, one by one. This was straight from the pages of a sketchbook.

  I’d imagined this, longed for it, drawn it…and now I had it.

  He lay sprawled on his back, wearing absolutely nothing. Unless you counted me.

  And I was fully dressed. I still wore my panties, but he’d pulled them to the side after he’d donned a rubber.

  Now I sat atop him, my hands on his chest while he stared up at me.

  “You look like a startled little fairy,” he muttered, his hands gripping my hips.

  Startled.

  Was I startled?

  I guess that was one word.

  I felt startled.

  I felt aching and hungry and needy as he surged up against me and he went so deep. His fingers spread wide to grip my ass and bring me down to meet each thrust and instinctively, I swayed forward. The friction had him so close to where I needed to feel him.

  I did it again and he laughed, the sound rubbing against my skin.

  He let go of my hip and reached up to catch my wrist. “You want it, take it,” he said, his eyes burning into mine.

  I blushed, felt the heat of it scalding my skin as he guided my hand between my thighs. Such a basic thing to do, touching myself. Such a basic thing, another piece of me, stolen away. I hadn’t done this—

  “Don’t.” His voice went hard, tight and the hand that had been guiding mine shot up into my hair, tightened. His grip was just this side of pain and I gasped, staring into his eyes as he sat up, watching me. Although I still straddled him, I felt surrounded by him. Lost in him. “You’re sliding away from me again and you can’t do that. Don’t bring him here, not while I’m inside you. Not when your pussy is wet around me and I can feel you so close to coming.”

  Panic fluttered, tried to choke me.

  “I can’t always stop it—he finds a way in and I can’t push him out,” I said, forcing myself to speak.

  “Then I will.” He flipped us around and came down on top on me. When I would have pulled my hand away, he brought it back, staring at me, challenge written all over his face. His skin—dark and silken, stretched over muscles that rippled with every move—was hot against mine. “Touch yourself. You burn against me, you know that? I want to see what you like.”

  “You…” Blinking, I closed my eyes, the words hesitating in my throat. Then I forced myself to look back at him.

  And he waited. Inside me, his cock throbbed, pulsed, but he hovered above me, one arm stretched out over my head, holding his weight easily, as if he would wait right there, forever.

  “I barely remember what I like.”

  “Then it’s time you find out.” Slowly, his gaze bold and intent, he let it travel over me until he was staring at my hand. “I already know what you like…and you do, too. If you think about it. Now…show me. Show us both.”

  I felt a pulse shimmer through me as I slid my fingers against the hard, erect bud of my clitoris in a slow circle. I liked it when he did that. And I loved it when he toyed with me—fast, steady little strokes that brought me straight to the edge. I found that rhythm almost right away and cried out, my hips rocking in tight little circles, seeking to deepen the contact.

  It wasn’t enough.

  I needed him deeper, and I needed it now. I needed—

  “What?”

  My gaze flew to his and I stared. Had I said that out loud?

  I swallowed and realized yes. Yes, I had.

  “You.” One hand still clutched his shoulder and I slid it up, curved it around his neck as I watched him. “I need you. More than this…”

  He surged against me and I arched up, crying out. “Like that?”

  The only answer I could make was a whimper.

  It was enough. He rocked against me, deep, hard strokes that had me bowing up off the chaise, my body straining to meet each thrust, my skin slicked with sweat, my heart pounding, all of me desperate for him.

  An
d it still wasn’t enough. I twined my legs around him, my arms clinging to him, and I cried out his name.

  Then he swore, muttered mine as his hands gripped my ass and tucked me tight against him. His cock swelled, pulsed deep inside me and he shoved back and moved.

  The hard, hot floor of the deck was against my back, my hair fanning out around me as he covered me. “Fuck, you’re going to drive me nuts. What are you doing to me?” he demanded, hooking an arm around my neck. He didn’t give me a chance to answer and it wasn’t as if I could have offered him one, anyway. His tongue drove into my mouth as his cock drove into me and nothing else mattered but him, his body, the way he possessed me.

  That hard, driving, almost brutal possession.

  And I loved, craved, needed every second of it.

  He pounded into me and I sobbed out his name and came.

  I wasn’t sure what was more amazing—my climax, or the way he went rigid and snarled my name in the seconds before he orgasmed.

  He left me alone in the cottage.

  I nibbled my lip and studied the locks.

  They weren’t secure enough.

  It was just a deadbolt and one of those flimsy old locks that all keyed doorknobs came with. A person could open that with that stupid bumping technique. It wasn’t hard. I’d learned how to do it after I realized I had to know how vulnerable I was.

  The answer? Very vulnerable.

  It was possible Jenks had a lock that protected against bump keys, but who knew? A lot of people didn’t realize how easy it was to break in.

  Of course, that thought made me feel very, very stupid because I had the right locks, I had the security system and somebody had still managed to get inside.

  How could I work here, though?

  The door was too vulnerable. And the French doors that faced out over the beach were so exposed.

  My belly twisted and I pressed my hands against my face. Rational. Be rational. Think it through.

  That was what I had to do. That was how I coped.

  Nobody but Seth and Marla knew where I was. Detective Barry had my number and she could probably figure out where I was, but none of Stefan’s paid stalkers knew.

  He wouldn’t come here, would he?

  My hands trembled as I dug my phone out of my pocket.

  One thing to do, check and see what was going on with his gallery.

  If he had a big show coming up, he’d be getting ready for it, not loitering around here. He was too much of a control freak and wouldn’t trust anybody to handle the details leading up to a showing unless he was there to oversee things.

  My heart kept racing away until the calendar loaded and then, the strength drained out of me, as if adrenaline was the only thing that had kept me upright as I saw the show he had lined up later this week.

  No.

  He wouldn’t be here in South Carolina, not if Alessandra Shipley had the gallery. He’d wooed her for years, tried to pin her down and had finally done it just months before my life had gone to hell. He didn’t let his assistants handle his big prizes and Alessandra was a big prize.

  She was also one of the women he’d taunted me with. I couldn’t hate her, though. Once, I might have. Now, staring at the image of her hauntingly lovely face, I just felt sad. I hoped he didn’t hurt her as he’d hurt me.

  He’d never be able do exactly what he’d done to me. If she disappeared for nine months, too many people would notice. Yes, he’d reported me missing, but after a time, the only people who’d even cared were the cops. It was easy to brush it aside.

  Alessandra was a different story.

  But Stefan knew a thousand ways to batter, all without leaving a mark. To tear into the body and show no sign.

  He could destroy, and leave you broken, weeping inside, and nobody around you would ever be the wiser.

  Closing the browser window, I tucked the phone away and stared at the door. I had to find the right way to make this settle in my head or I’d never get any work done.

  But the question was…just how did I make my need for safety align with everything I saw as a risk?

  Especially in a house that wasn’t mine.

  Jenks came home to find me sitting on the deck.

  I hadn’t been able to start work until three, which meant when seven rolled around, I wasn’t able to stop. I usually only worked for six hours. The money my parents had left me allowed me a significant amount of freedom and I won’t deny that I enjoyed it. When I needed to lose myself in work, I did just that, but I wasn’t going to bind myself to deadlines and contracts, either. It could be another trap and I needed to have the freedom to do nothing, if I needed it.

  Falling behind, though, wasn’t an option, either.

  For the past year, I’d built a reputation and I had people who’d come to count on me. For a girl who’d never had any measure of independence, that was something more precious than gold.

  The current project was almost done. I felt a prickle of heat and looked up just as I started to put the finishing touches on the heroine’s hair. Jenks was striding around the corner of the cottage. Moving fast, although not quite in a run. His face was grim, drawn tight, but when he saw me, something about him relaxed.

  I gave him a tentative smile and shot a look into the house.

  He already knew I was a basket case.

  I guess it wasn’t going to come as any surprise when he saw that I’d blocked the doors, was it?

  Continuing to work as he mounted the steps, I stayed quiet.

  He walked past me and I couldn’t help but glance over my shoulder.

  Couldn’t help but feel foolish as he stopped in front of the French doors, staring inside. He could see clear through to the front door, could clearly see that I’d moved an armchair in front of the door—it was the closest heavy object that I could find. Then I’d put weights in front of it. As many of them as I could carry and he had a lot of free weights. That explained that very amazing body of his.

  Looking back at the screen of my MacBook, I saw that I’d messed up the heroine’s hair and I sighed. Better to stop now before I ruined it. It wasn’t due for another week. I had time. I undid the damage, saved and then shut down, wrapping my arms around my legs as I waited for Jenks to come back to sit down.

  It didn’t take long.

  He’d gone inside and I expected him to move everything back to its place, but in under two minutes, he was back out there, a Sam Adams in one hand, and an Aquafina in the other.

  I took the water as he sat down on the low-lying coffee table in front of me.

  “What’s the problem?” he asked, his voice soft.

  I jerked my gaze away. “Problem?”

  “Shadow.”

  Reaching up, I worried the string that held the neckline of my shirt closed and focused on the water lapping at the shore. He was going to think I was crazy.

  And it wasn’t going to change no matter what I said. Sliding my gaze back to his, I shrugged and then said simply, “There aren’t enough locks. I didn’t feel safe.”

  Seconds passed and then he reached up, rubbed his hands across his face. He sat that way a long, long time. “It didn’t seem to be an issue when I was here. Why is it when I’m not?”

  “Because you’re not.” I pushed up and moved to stand at the railing. “You’re asking for logic, Jenks. There isn’t any and I can’t make this logical. I can go visit Seth and Marla and if they are there, I don’t think about the locks. When you’re in my place, the locks aren’t as much of an issue.” I paused and looked down, an odd thought occurring. “I do check when it’s Seth and Marla, though.”

  Turning, I rested against the railing and stared at him. “But if I’m alone, I have to know I’m safe. There aren’t enough locks and the ones you have are terrible. I researched locks for three months before I found the right combination that I thought would keep me safe.” The need to start fidgeting was strong, but I managed to just stand there and wait. “Those locks are awful. I could probabl
y pick them.”

  His eyes came back to me, one brow arching up. “You can pick locks?”

  “I can use a bump key.” Now I had to do something. Unable to stand there, I moved over to the coffee table and took one of my sketchbooks, the one on the bottom. I was running out of paper, halfway through already and the extras I’d bought had been ruined. Time to buy more, but I didn’t know where I’d keep them. Carry them with me? I didn’t know. Flipping open to a blank sheet, I started to draw, letting my fingers guide me. And it was little surprise when Jenks’ face started to take shape. It was him as he’d looked when I woke up last night, startled out of rest by the remnants of a dream. He’d only stayed asleep for a heartbeat after my eyes opened, but I had that image in my mind. Now I wanted it on paper.

  “A bump key,” he repeated.

  “Yes, it’s a key used for breaking into homes.” I roughed out the image first. Best to do it that way, then go back and do the detail, shade in later.

  “I know what a bump key is.” He came over and sat down. His hands came up, gently.

  I stilled, watched as he took my pencil from me, then the sketchpad, and set them aside. He grasped my waist, and easy as that, hauled me into his lap. “What I want to know is why you know, and more…how in the hell, and why in the hell, did you learn how to use one?”

  The velvet of his eyes was too hard to look into, so I looked past him, staring out over the blue waters of the ever-changing ocean. Squirming around, I tucked my chin on his shoulder, aware of his chest rising and falling against mine. “It’s hard to protect yourself until you know just how easy it would be for somebody to find you, hurt you,” I finally said.

  The arm he had wrapped around my waist tensed.

  He tangled a hand in my hair and tugged.

  Slowly, I let him guide my gaze to his and the probing stare he gave me left me feeling stripped and naked. “You’re telling me you do shit like that so you know how easy it would be for him to get at you?” he demanded.