Awakened (Intimate Relations) (6 page)

BOOK: Awakened (Intimate Relations)
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“The thing is, each time I dreamed, I saw more. The images would be clearer and I finally thought I recognized the room. I knew it was her room, the woman in my dream, but I didn’t know who she was or who was hurting her. The thing is, once the nightmares started, the blackouts ended, which makes me think they had to be connected.”

He lay there a moment, remembering, trying to recall the small details, but so much felt scattered. He wondered if he was subconsciously trying to forget what really happened, except …

“One night, just before I was going to meet with the administrator dealing with my scholarship, knowing I had to tell her that I hadn’t been able to keep my grades up and couldn’t qualify for more funds, I had a different version of the same dream. This time I realized I wasn’t really seeing the woman, I was seeing her reflection in a mirror, just her face and what looked like a man’s hands around her throat. Her body had gone limp. She wasn’t struggling anymore.”

He lay there, remembering that awful moment when the dreams and the blackouts suddenly came together, and he couldn’t lie there anymore. Couldn’t have Mandy touching him when he finally told her the truth. He pulled away from her warmth and her loving embrace. Gave her distance. Stood beside the bed staring down at her, at the confusion in her gaze.

“I saw more in that mirror, Mandy. Everything shifted. I saw the face of the man who’d killed her, as clear as can be. It was my face. It was me.”

She was out of bed in a heartbeat and he knew she’d be running far and fast to get away from him. He’d move out in the morning. Not tonight. He was just too damned tired tonight.

Except she wasn’t running. She wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her head against his chest, and then she held him. Just held him, as if to protect him from … what? From himself? If anyone needed protecting, it was Mandy. She was a beautiful, caring, loving woman.

While he, Marcus Jerome Reed, was a murderer.

*   *   *

There was absolutely no way in hell that Marc had killed anyone. He was the kindest, gentlest man she’d ever known. There wasn’t a mean bone in his body, not a single part of him that felt at all dark. If anything, he’d always seemed a little lost, as if he never quite knew how to fit in or what to say, though he’d definitely loosened up over the past few weeks.

And he’d really loosened up tonight. She’d never imagined sex as good as it had been with Marc. She’d loved him for so long, and there was no way she’d ever fall in love with a murderer. He had to be wrong, believing his dreams meant he’d killed someone. She was a good judge of human character. It wasn’t in him to do something evil.

“Marc?”

He cupped her face in his big hands and gently kissed her. “I don’t know why you’re still here, but thank you.”

“What do you mean, ‘why I’m still here?’ You are my friend and so much more, Marc. I’m going to help you figure out what the hell is going on in your head, because I know for a fact you’ve never hurt anyone, much less killed anybody.”

“You can’t know that.”

“I can. I know you. You, Marc Reed, are not a killer.” She grabbed his hand and tugged. “We’re going to get back into bed, together, and sleep, and I will be here if you dream.”

“Mandy.” He exhaled. Loudly. “I don’t know if it’s safe for you. Those blackouts happened, and I have no idea what I did while I was out of it, but I was conscious enough to travel around the city, and quite possibly I killed a woman during one of those lost periods. What if I have one while you’re here with me, what if…”

She pressed her finger to his lips. “No more, Marc. Get into bed. I’m tired and so are you. We both need to sleep.”

He stared at her for what felt like a very long time, and she knew the moment when he gave up the battle, gave in. “Your bed.” He looked resigned more than happy about it.

She shrugged. “Okay.” Holding his hand, she leaned over and grabbed her robe off the floor, before leading him out the door and into her room. “But why mine?”

He tugged her close beside her bed and kissed her. “Because the condoms are in here. I don’t want to risk being in a bed with you without protection handy. Your protection, Mandy, because someday, if we can solve this, if somehow we can prove I haven’t killed someone, there’s nothing I’d love more than seeing you with my child. But now isn’t the right time.”

“Oh, Marc.” He really was breaking her heart. She kissed him, hard and too fast for him to kiss her back before she broke the connection. “I love a man who thinks ahead.”

He swatted her bottom as she turned to crawl into bed. The stinging slap was so unexpected she dropped her bathrobe and practically leapt into the tumbled bedding.

“Wow.” He stared at his hand and laughed. Then he looked surprised that he was actually laughing, but he grinned at Mandy and said, “I had no idea how effective that could be.”

“In. Now.” Biting back a smile, she pointed at the space beside her. He got in without any other comment, but he was definitely more relaxed.

He was also noticeably aroused. The moment she saw his erection, Mandy’s body reacted. She glanced at the pile of condoms.

Marc caught her looking and raised a terribly expressive eyebrow.

She shrugged and reached for one of the packets. “Once more, okay? It’ll help us sleep.”

He laughed out loud. “If you say so.”

“Oh, I do, Marc.” She paused, amazed by his sudden change in mood. He’d been horribly upset, and they still didn’t have any answers. Not really. “Are you okay?”

“Do you have any idea what it feels like, after so many years living with this horrible thing, to actually tell someone? To have that someone believe in me enough to want to look for answers? Even if I find out I’m guilty of a terrible crime, I’ll have that, Mandy. The fact that you’re at least willing to believe I’m a better person, that I didn’t do something that is so abhorrent to me I can’t even comprehend how or why I could have done it.”

“You didn’t. All we need to do is find out what actually happened. I know there’s an answer. It might be something as simple as your having seen it in a movie and, with all the stress in your life, turning that visual into a dream that’s haunted you. But not tonight. Make love to me, and then you are not allowed to think about it or to leave. You
will
stay here with me. I don’t want to sleep alone.” She kissed him. Slowly, gently, before pulling away. “Not after fantasizing about you in my bed for way too long.”

*   *   *

He touched her everywhere, fascinated by her body’s reaction to him, the way she shivered when he kissed her breasts, how she arched into him when he put his mouth between her legs, the way her sex plumped and her juices flowed. He loved her taste, her sounds, the scent of her arousal, the fact she seemed to welcome whatever he did with her, to her … whatever he tried.

It was all so new, this making love to a woman he actually loved, one he’d wanted and never hoped to have. When she was there, waiting at her peak, so close to coming that merely looking at her had him on the edge, he grabbed a condom with hands shaking so badly that Mandy took it from him, ripped open the packet, and rolled it on over his erection.

He filled her in a single thrust.

She cried out, her fingers scrabbling against his thighs. “More,” she said. “Harder. I want more of you!”

Exactly what he wanted to hear. Thrusting hard and fast, he knew he’d never gone this deep, experienced this powerful sense of connection, been so fully aware of the feel of his cock sliding across the solid contours of a woman’s cervix. Across Mandy’s.

Her inner muscles clamped down on his erection and her fingernails scored his flanks. That sharp burst of pain was all it took, setting off a shockwave of sensation that raced from his spine to his balls and beyond. Throwing his head back, his harsh groan practically echoing in the small bedroom, he came as if he’d not climaxed in years, as if the times earlier tonight had never happened.

Panting, gasping for breath, he held his weight off of Mandy as she rode out her own climax, but when her arms came around him, he slowly lowered himself, covering her as she held him close against her.

Long moments later, she opened her eyes. Blinking owlishly, she stared at him. “Marc?”

He leaned close and kissed her. “What, babe? God, that was so amazing.” He kissed her again. “You’re beautiful when you come.”

She licked her lips. “So are you, but Marc? Does anything feel different to you?”

Different? He grabbed his cock at the base and, holding the end of the condom so it wouldn’t slip off, pulled slowly out of Mandy. Her muscles still rippled around him, but something did feel different. He wasn’t sure what, but … “Crap. The condom broke.”

Mandy started laughing. She lay on the bed, laughing until tears ran down her cheeks. When she finally got it together, after Marc had disposed of the rather messy condom, he crawled back into bed beside her and, propped up on one elbow, stared at her until she took a deep breath, blinked, and then smiled at him. “For what it’s worth, this isn’t the right time of the month for me to get pregnant. It’s okay, Marc.”

“Why the hysterical laughter, then?” He brushed her tangled hair back from her face and kissed her.

“Because I think this has probably been the very best and very worst day of my life. The broken condom was sort of the candle on the cake.”

He nodded. “Yeah, one of those trick candles you can’t blow out?”

She smiled. “Exactly. I’ll stop by the pharmacy tomorrow. There’s stuff I can take that…”

“If you think the risk is low, I’d rather you didn’t. I’m a wuss, but there must be side effects with stuff like that. I don’t want you to take anything to make you feel bad.”

“The risk I’ll get pregnant really is pretty low,” she said. Then she kissed him, just a short, sharp reminder of her taste. “So, unless you have mega powerful little marathon swimmers that can hold their breath for days and days, I think we’re okay.”

He pulled her close for a long, very satisfying kiss. Satisfying for him, definitely. From the look on Mandy’s face, okay with her, too. He rested his forehead against hers. “We can talk about it in the morning, okay? For what it’s worth, if by chance you do end up pregnant, I will be here for you and whatever little whatsit we end up with. I promise. You okay with that?”

“Definitely okay. G’night, Marc. And don’t worry. I feel very safe with you. I always have.”

He awoke once during the night, momentarily disoriented when he realized he wasn’t in his own bed. Then Mandy moved in her sleep. He identified the slight weight of her snuggled close to his chest. She rubbed her face against him, sighed, and settled back into sleep. He lay there a moment, going over the night they’d had, the things he’d discovered about Mandy.

About himself.

He had definitely fallen hard over the past weeks. Fallen hard and figured it was just something he’d have to deal with, because he couldn’t risk Mandy’s safety. But lying here with her cheek resting on his chest and her fingers curled against his belly, he realized that holding her like this, having her close to him, his body sated from their lovemaking, was the closest thing to perfection he could imagine.

She was willing to fight for him. The least he could do was fight just as hard.

*   *   *

He heard the front door, whispered voices, recognized the soft sound of his best friend’s familiar voice. What the hell were Jake and Kaz doing here? He’d thought they were headed to Italy early this morning for a photo shoot—at least that’s what Jake told him when they’d talked yesterday.

Careful not to disturb Mandy, Marc slipped out of bed, grabbed his pants off the floor and headed out to the kitchen. He glanced at the clock—it was well after nine. He never slept this late, but then he’d never had a night like last night.

Intense didn’t even come close. Intense and satisfying on so many levels.

He heard them in the kitchen. Kaz had lived here for a couple of years before she and Jake hooked up, and now, because of Kaz’s hectic modeling schedule, Mandy and her sister were deep into plans for Kaz and Jake’s August wedding. He hoped there weren’t any problems with the Italy trip—Kaz was calling it her pre-honeymoon—because they should already be in the air.

“Good morning. I thought you two would be on your way by now.”

“Hey, Marc.” Jake laughed. “The place is so quiet, I wondered if anyone but Rico was here. Your vicious watchdog, by the way, didn’t even wake up when we walked in. Our flight got delayed, and then Kaz remembered a scarf she left here yesterday that she wanted to take.”

It was hard to picture Kaz as the stunning model gracing the latest cover of
Vanity Fair
, not when she was standing here in the kitchen in worn yoga pants and a long-sleeved tee, but she was gorgeous even when she wasn’t wearing make-up and half a million dollars in jewels. Marc slipped an arm around her waist and kissed her cheek. At six-two, she had him by a good inch in height, but she was a perfect match for Jake, who was taller than just about everyone. “So, did you find it?”

With a sheepish look, she held up a beautiful hand-dyed scarf in shades of blues and greens. “I remembered hanging it on the back of the chair. Jake bought it for our first shoot.”

“That’s the one Jake used in the photos for the Intimate debut.” He’d never forget the way that scarf had looked, artfully draped around Kaz’s amazing body, showcasing the jewelry designs that were now adding to his fortune. The exquisite photographs Jake had taken during their week in wine country had pushed his newest company into a phenomenally successful launch.

Jake and Kaz had also launched a romance that was every bit as beautiful.

Jake slipped his arm around Kaz’s waist and hugged her close. “I actually bought it for Kaz. I wanted her to think it was merely a prop to set off your jewelry designs.” He kissed her. “It was all about seducing the sexy model.”

Kaz rolled her eyes. “I was so easy.”

“You still are, darlin’. It’s part of your charm.” Jake ducked when she took a swing at him.

They were all laughing when Mandy walked into the kitchen in her ratty old bathrobe. Marc turned and held his hand out. She took it. He pulled her close and, without thinking, kissed her. “Morning, sleepyhead.”

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