Bound by the Past (8 page)

She gagged slightly and he eased up. “You can do this, Carly. I need you to do this. Please.”

His words seemed to work their way into her psyche and when he thrust in again, she took him to the hilt as the head of his erection brushed the back of her throat.

“That’s it, baby. Oh God, that feels so good.”

Words escaped him as he continued to pound into her sweet, hot mouth. Carly worked his cock like a pro. He felt her hiss as his fingers tightened in her hair. He was hurting her, but he couldn’t seem to loosen his grip. Glancing down, he sensed she liked the edge of pain. She reached out to grasp his balls in one of her hands and it was his turn to hiss as she squeezed. The pleasure and pain of the act was the catalyst he needed as his cock exploded, spraying the back of her throat with what felt like a ton of hot semen.

“Drink it,” he demanded. “God, take it all. Take it all.” Carly complied and for several seconds, she simply held him in her mouth as he struggled to come back to earth.

The second he regained his senses, shame threatened to swallow him whole and he carried her to her bed.

“Oh Blue Eyes,” he murmured, his voice betraying his remorse and regret. “Jesus, I didn’t mean to use you like that.”

Carly giggled. “That was
so
incredibly hot. Dammit, Jon, you make me feel wicked and wild. I love it.”

He grinned at her enthusiastic response. “Still, I think I owe you one.”

“Or two,” she teased. “Or maybe three or four. I was pretty good down there.”

He laughed but took care with her, desperate to make up for the roughness of his previous effort. He made love to her gently, covering her with soft, wet kisses.

Afterward, they cuddled.

“Mmm. I think I promised you dinner.” Carly ran her hand across his bare chest.

“So you did. What do you say we order a pizza and fuck again? I don’t really like the idea of you getting out of this bed.”

“No, no more pizza. That’s all we ate this weekend. I am making you a proper dinner.”

He started to complain but at that exact moment, his stomach growled. Carly laughed. Bending down, she placed a quick kiss on his abdomen. “I bought steaks.”

“Damn, why didn’t you say so? Come on, I’ll help.”

As they cooked together, Jon tried to push back the guilt that wouldn’t let him go. He didn’t deserve her, didn’t deserve this happiness. Jesus. If he were a stronger man, he would get the hell out of this town—away from her and his fucking past—before both of them were destroyed completely.

“Penny for your thoughts,” she said, jerking him from his disturbing concerns.

“Actually, I was considering tossing you up on that counter and having my way with you again.” The lie came easily. A lifetime of practice at deception was bound to lead to perfection.

“You, Mr. Walker, have a one-track mind.”

“I warned you right from the start, Carly.”

“Yeah,” she acknowledged. “You did, but let’s eat first. We’ve got all night for what you have in mind.”

Her words triggered another thought and he sighed. “Actually, we don’t. My best friend Night showed up late last night. He’s at my place right now. I really need to leave after dinner.”

Carly placed her hands on her hips, annoyed. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would have invited him to dinner tonight as well.”

He grinned before swatting her playfully on the ass. “If you’d done that, I wouldn’t have gotten my appetizer.”

“You plan to introduce us, don’t you?”

Her question left him instantly regretting the fact that he’d started this conversation. “I’m not sure how long he’ll be staying.”

Carly’s face fell a bit, shrugging sadly before she turned around to continue mixing the salad. Shit, there was no way he could confess his reason for not wanting her and Night to meet. How could he tell her he was afraid the image of her with his best friend would lead to cravings he’d never be able to fight?

Walking over to her, Jon wrapped his arms around her, pulling Carly back to his chest. He nipped lightly at her ear and did the one thing he sensed he would be doing a lot of in regards to his new love. He lied. “I’ll bring him around one day. I’m warning you, though, he thinks he’s a regular lady killer.”

She smiled at his words and turned in his arms. “I can’t wait to meet him. You’ve never told me anything about your past and I have to say, I’ve always wondered. Besides Night, you’ve never even mentioned any other friends or relatives.”

Jon shrugged and tried to keep his face from giving away the turmoil swamping his insides. “Not much to tell. Night is my only connection to the past. My dad died when I was just a kid and I don’t talk to my mother.”

He could see a million questions lining up on her lips, but he cut them all off with a deep kiss.

“I’m starving, Blue Eyes. What do you say we get this dinner out of the way, so you can feed my hunger?”

When Jon let himself into his townhouse later that night, he immediately sensed Night’s presence in the darkened living room. It looked like his friend didn’t plan to return to his observation post on the mountain anytime soon.

“Hello, Jon. How’s the girlfriend?”

“Why are you sitting in the dark?”

“You know me, bud. Happier in the dark. Easier to hide my sins without some harsh light beating down.”

“Have you been drinking?” Jon turned on the light. Night’s legs were stretched out and resting on the coffee table. He noticed the half-empty bottle of Jack Daniel’s in his hands.

“Making yourself at home, aren’t you?” Jon dropped down to sit beside his friend and grabbed the bottle. Taking a long swig, he handed it back. “No phone call, I presume?”

“Not a peep. Old bitch is certainly taking her time calling in the recruits.” Night took another drink of whiskey and passed the bottle back.

Jon studied his friend’s face. The last four years had chiseled it down to a sharp caricature of its former self. He’d lost weight, yet Night more than made up for it in muscle mass. Always handsome in a clean-cut, all-American-boy way, he now looked more like a cross between Rambo and a Ken doll. His hair was longer than he’d ever seen it. The burnished gold mass of waves reached past his shoulders. The deep lines cut into his face could only have been put there by lots of time in the sun and hard living.

He should know. Jon saw the same lines on his face every morning in the mirror.

“You need a haircut.”

Night laughed. “So do you. So how is darling Carly?”

Jon took another drink, letting the whiskey work its soothing way into his soul. He was bone-weary and the hot liquor was going a long way toward loosening up the pain.

“Carly is amazing.” He leaned back against the couch, the thought of her washing through him.

Night’s eyebrows flew up. “Amazing, eh? Damn, man, you got it bad.”

He smiled. “Yeah, I do. She’s beautiful and funny. She looks at a person and sees everything good inside.”

“She sees something good inside you?” Night’s tone was teasing, but Jon answered anyway.

“Incredibly enough, she does.”

Jon looked at his friend and noticed a flash of pain cross his face before he hid it behind the bottle.

“Wonder if she’d see anything good in me?” Night mumbled the rhetorical question. Jon had no doubt he’d never have uttered it if he hadn’t been three sheets to the wind.

“Don’t you think it’s time you move on? Get the hell out of the CAA, maybe go to school. Find a normal job and a normal life before this one eats you alive.”

“Be like you?” Night’s words were harsh, anger filled his gaze. “Just give up and let Cassandra win? Let that fucking bitch start all over again, destroying lives while we sit on our asses and pretend to be normal? Screw that. You and I will never be normal. Never.”

“If I really believed that, I’d be dead by now. Unlike you, I refuse to wallow in the dirt of our past.” Jon’s hands were shaking. It was all he could do not to hit his best friend. Night’s words were cutting too close to the vein, too close to his true fears.

“You think because you’ve got this job, this girlfriend, the past just disappears. Well, I’ve got a newsflash for you, the past will catch up to you and when it does, you can kiss your normal life goodbye. Let’s see what good Carly spots inside you when she finds out she’s hooked up with a closet Dom with a taste for bondage—who learned all his tricks from dear old Mommy and her cult buddies. Better yet, what do you think she’ll say when she realizes the only way you’ll ever be truly complete and happy with a woman is when we take her together?”

As soon as the angry words passed Night’s lips, Jon watched his friend’s face go pale. Speechless, he struggled to find words to deny the truth.

“Forget it.” Night leaned back and closed his eyes. “I’m drunk and saying stupid shit. Forget it all.”

“I can’t forget it, Night. I’ve never forgotten any of it. Is that what you think? Because I’m trying to move on with my life I’ve erased every memory? Christ, I should be so lucky.”

Night sat motionless, but now that the vault was open, Jon couldn’t let the subject die.

“Funny thing is, even if I could erase the past, I wouldn’t wipe away one single minute of our time together. Night, you’re more than my best friend. You’re closer to me than a brother. I swear to God, you know me better than I know myself. Maybe I do try too hard to be normal, to escape the way we were raised—and I’m pretty damn sure it’s the height of abnormality to want you in bed with me and Carly. The hell of it is, I
do
want you there.” Night’s eyes flew open at his admission, but Jon wasn’t finished with his confession. “But Carly
is
normal. And regardless of my desires, I couldn’t…I wouldn’t do that to her.”

“What if she wanted it?”

“Jesus, Night. How do you propose I bring that topic up?”

“Ask her?”

“She’s never even met you. You’re a stranger to her.”

“So let me get to know her.” Night leaned forward.

Jon shook his head, more out of frustration than denial. “No.”

He couldn’t let this discussion go any further. They were passing into dangerous territory. If Jon let himself believe he could have it all, it would destroy the tenuous relationship he’d managed to build with Carly thus far. As it was, the entire thing was built on a foundation of sand. It wouldn’t take more than a light breeze to blow her right back out of his life again. And the fact was, he couldn’t imagine a life without her in it. If he had to hold back a bit of himself, so be it. He would be whatever she needed him to be, even if it threatened to destroy that precious connection he shared with Night.

Night’s face closed up against him. Jon fought the overwhelming feeling of regret. They sat in silence for several minutes while he struggled to find the words to explain.

“Night—”

“No, Jon. Let it drop. Please.”

He nodded, certain anything else he said would make things worse and he was grateful when Night changed the subject quickly.

“Every day Cassandra doesn’t call means another woman…” Night’s voice died out before he could continue the thought, but his observation was the same one that threatened to pound every bit of sanity out of Jon as well.

He’d spent most of the evening trying to lose himself in Carly’s body. As if by burying himself in her warm, tight heat, he could soak all of her happiness into himself. He’d used her hard and he was ashamed of himself. Not that she’d complained. She’d seemed to enjoy his rough treatment, continually welcomed his advances.

“Maybe we should plan our own reunion,” Night suggested. Jon saw where his friend’s thoughts had strayed.

“If the mountain won’t come to Muhammad?”

A faint glimmer of desperation shone in Night’s eyes. While Jon struggled to forget the past, to put all the pain and fear behind him, Night never stopped remembering. He refused to let the old wounds heal. Rather, he kept them open and sore. While Jon dismissed Cassandra as a bad memory, Night had watched the woman’s every move for years. No doubt it was Night who’d alerted Reilly to Cassandra’s return to Olson Mountain.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Night. It’s bound to make Cassandra suspicious. Let her come to you. Reilly is sure it’s just a matter of time now.”

Night stood up and clenched his fists. Jon was surprised by the action. For years, he was the one to fight his hot temper while Night took everything in calm, cool, collected stride.

“How can you sit there and let this happen again? Christ. I thought I knew you better. The friend I love, the one I grew up respecting and admiring, would never sit on his fucking ass and let innocent women get hurt.”

“Don’t you throw that shit at my door.” Jon was on his feet now as well, leaning toward Night. They were both tall, although he had an inch or two on his best friend. “I already fought that goddamn battle once. And look what it cost me, Night? I lost fifteen years of my life trying to make amends, and Sarah—” His voice broke on her name. “I killed her. I killed her, Night.”

His anguished words seemed to take all the wind out of Night’s sails. “Rex killed Sarah.”

Before he could stop the words that had haunted him for nearly half his life, Jon found them falling from his lips. “I raped her, Night. I raped Sarah.”

Night didn’t respond to his confession. He merely put a strong hand on Jon’s shoulder and pushed him back down to the couch. Night sat down as well and handed him the nearly empty bottle of whiskey. Jon drained it in one swallow.

“Now,” Night said after he’d composed himself. “Tell me. All of it.”

He began with just two words. The two words he’d never uttered to anyone before. “Rex knew.”

“What did he know?”

“All of it. He knew about Sarah and he knew I was going to betray him…
had
betrayed him. I’d stolen the documents from the office and delivered them to Reilly. I was coming to find you. Rex stopped me outside one of the training rooms in the dungeon. I didn’t know he knew about my betrayal. He pulled me into the room. It was dark and he was laughing. It sounded like he’d come unhinged.” Jon shuddered as he thought about how Rex’s cruel face looked just before he shut the door to the dim, damp room.