From Yesterday (13 page)

"Fuck, you aren't wearing any underwear, Paige."

I wriggle my hips and his finger has no choice but to move with me. "I know," I tell him, "less getting in the way."

My voice is hoarse and rough with lust; I barely even sound like me.

"God, you're amazing."

He doesn't sound any more in control of himself than I do. We continue the slow, heady grind against one another; seeking comfort, or release. Maybe both.

Then Brady pulls me up off of him and sets me on top of the desk. "I want to watch you make yourself come, Paige."

I don't question it. I'm too far gone by now. I just delve down and sink two fingers inside myself; my other hand goes to massage my clit.

It is unfathomable how much of a turn on it is to touch myself for him.

Brady watches, his hand gravitating towards the button of his shorts until he has them open and his erection is in his hand. I alternate between throwing my head back in ecstatic agony and glimpsing his hand work over his thick cock. Moisture is visible at the tip; a fact which pleases me because I know I've caused that. I press harder on my clit, then take my hand away briefly to raise my tank top over my head and bare my breasts to him. My nipples are sensitive to the cold air and it makes me shiver. I pull my fingers out of myself about halfway until I can see moisture coating them, and then thrust them back inside, causing me to cry out.

Brady strokes himself faster now, his breath coming in shallow gasps; he seems to swell up more in his hand. "You first," he tells me.

Knowing myself very well and exactly what to do to get where he wants me, it won't be long. I fuck myself with my fingers and rub my clit furiously with the other hand. And then the pressure becomes unbearable and I'm tipping over the edge. Falling, falling, falling until I hit the bottom and I let myself relax.

"Ah, Paige, I..."

As he starts to come, I lean forward so that he hits my breasts with every drop of his release. The extra visual is known to prolong an orgasm.

When we're both fully sated, I lean all the way back to lay down on my desk, not caring about the stickiness covering my chest. I bring my legs up to rest in his lap and he strokes the back of my calves gently.

"You are indescribable, Paige. I mean, I have no words."

I raise myself up onto my elbows to look at him. I don't speak, I just watch him as he gains control of his breathing and looks back at me.

After some time, I reach for the box of tissues on top of my filing cabinet and clean myself off. Brady takes them from me and tosses them into the wastebasket, then tucks himself back in and buttons his shorts. He picks my legs up as he stands, and lifts me into his arms so that I have to wrap my legs around his waist.

"Let's go to bed, Paige. I mean, to sleep."

I lay my head down on his chest and let him carry me into my bedroom. He sets me down on my bed, gently, and takes his clothing off. Standing before me completely nude, I cannot help but stare. I don't agree with anyone who says men aren't as nice to look at as women; I think that they are every bit as alluring. He is in great shape; muscle lines almost every surface. His cock is still semi-hard and hangs heavily between cut thighs.

He lets me admire him for a moment, then turns the light out and gets into the bed with me. I pull my skirt off to even the playing field and lay back as he raises the blanket over us both.

I flip so that I face away from him and lean back until I'm against his chest. One of Brady's arms comes to rest over my hip. He kisses the back of my neck.

"Sleep well, Paige."

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

I'm awake long before Brady in the morning. I don't get up right away; I spend a few minutes enjoying the feeling of a warm body next to me and one of the most restful nights of sleep I've had in a long time. Eventually, I have to get up and use the bathroom and brush my teeth. I don't bother to get dressed; I just cover myself with a thin red robe. I look through my vanity for the extra toothbrush and leave it on the counter for Brady. I always buy a few because I'm paranoid about dropping mine and being unable to clean my mouth, so this one is new and in the package.

After making coffee, I check back in on Brady and he's still out. I'll bet he could sleep through a hurricane; my coffee maker is not a quiet machine. I grab my cell phone from my purse and step out onto the balcony for some privacy.

Dr. Sullivan answers on the second ring.

"Hey, Kid. I'm glad you called. I have something to tell you."

If I don't tell her the truth right away, I'll lose my nerve, so I ignore what she's saying and jump right in. "It's happening again, Dr. Sullivan. I'm sure. He left me her necklace! The one we buried her with. I'm not making it up. He broke her vase; the one she begged my mother to get her for months. He left the shattered pieces all over my apartment floor with what looks like drops of blood on the broken pieces."

The silence on the other end of the phone lasts a bit too long. Finally, I hear her take a deep breath, probably preparing to tell me something she knows I won't want to hear.

I'm right. "Kiddo, listen to me. I want you to go and talk to someone local.

"Why? So that someone new can think that I'm crazy? No thanks. I'll talk to you and that's all."

"No one thinks you are crazy."

Anger starts to surge up inside of me. "You and I both know that's not the truth. What about my parents?"

She sighs. "Look, about your parents. Your father came to see me the other day."

The world stops spinning on its axis right then. "Did you tell him that you've spoken to me?"

"No, of course not. That's private information between me and you. He's still angry with me for letting you leave. He demanded I tell him where you are."

I breathe a little easier. "Well, that's another good reason for me not to tell you. He can't buy it out of you if you don't even know."

"I'd like to think that you trust me enough to know I would never succumb to a bribe, Kid."

"I know. I'm sorry. Look, I have to go. I'll call you again when I can."

"Wait, Rebecca..."

I hang up before she can say anything else and go back inside, careful not to step on any of the broken glass that I didn't bother to clean up last night. By the time I take a seat at the breakfast bar with my second cup of coffee, Brady finally makes an appearance. Unlike me, he opted out of covering himself up. Not that I mind, because he's definitely nice to look at, but it's hard to look anywhere else other than the obvious.

"Morning, Paige. Thanks for the toothbrush. Minty fresh."

He smirks. I roll my eyes.

"Well. You seem quite comfortable around me, huh? I'll bet you spend a lot of naked time when you're at your own place."

He nods as he takes a seat on the stool next to me."Absolutely, I do. Why not? I see no shame in being natural. And you saw everything last night, so why should I hide? You'll just spend all your time picturing me nude anyway."

I laugh. "You're too much. Do you want some coffee?"

"The answer to that question is always, always yes. Please."

I get up, and as I'm walking past him, he reaches out and lifts one side of my robe so that my ass is exposed. I smack his hand away.

"Just checking. You could take that off, you know."

"I could," I tell him, "but I think I like having you try to picture me naked."

I bring him his coffee and slide some sweetener in his direction.

"Oh, Paige. The images, they are burned into my mind. That still won't stop me from always wanting you to take your clothes off, though."

He takes a sip of his coffee and sighs contentedly. "Okay, now I can function properly. Which begs the question, should we fool around a little more and then call Victor, or vice versa?"

"That's a really tough decision to make, Brady. I mean, the responsible thing to do would be to call the guy and try to fix this problem, but on the other hand..."

I let my sentence trail off as I untie the sash around my waist and shrug the fabric off of my body. His interest in the coffee immediately shifts to taking in the sight of me in broad daylight.

Brady reaches for me and pulls me to the edge of my bar stool so that I'm between his thighs. "Wow. You should never wear anything, ever."

I say a silent prayer to the Brazillian wax ladies that do such a nice job of keeping me groomed and let myself be pulled even further until he twists me around so that I'm sitting in his lap with my back to his chest. He brings one hand to rest between my legs while the other turns my face to his until he can reach my mouth with his. As our lips collide and our tongues move together, Brady starts to move his other hand in a gentle back and forth motion until I can feel just how wet I am on his fingers.

The kiss becomes more urgent as he continues to tease me. I push backwards so that I can repay the favor; my ass driving right up against his erect cock.

"Damn, Paige."

Once again, I find myself in that place where I'm all sensation and unable to vocalize. I let my actions tell the story; my body lets him know that I want him.

I want him right now.

He takes the hint and stands us both up, bending me over the bar stool and caressing my ass with both hands. After a moment, he pulls back a bit until I feel him start to rub his cock against my throbbing clit. I arch my back as sounds that I barely recognize fight their way out of my throat.

He halts his movement and I whimper. "Sorry, Paige. Just one second."

I've never seen someone move so fast. He streaks across the hallway into my office and is back again in seconds. I hear the tell tale crinkle of a condom wrapper being torn into and I'm relieved that I never even had to ask. He just knew to be safe.

Brady moves back behind me to resume where we left off, but when he doesn't touch me again after a minute or two, I start to get antsy.

"Brady?"

"God, Paige, how did this happen?"

I freeze. He sounds horrified and I don't have to turn around to know what he is talking about. In all the talk about being free and walking around naked, I completely forgot about my scar. It is six inches long, jagged, and an angry red. It barely faded over the years; it was too deep and not tended to until many hours after the wound was caused.

And the scar runs from my inner thigh, right beside my center, all the way to the underside of my ass.

It
is
horrifying. I never realized it before, but anytime in the past that I've been in a position to be undressed with a guy, the lights have always been off.

I dash over and pick my robe up off of the floor and wrap it back around me.

In a shaky voice, I manage to give a vague response. "It was an accident."

Lie.

He knows. "That doesn't look like an accident."

His face is drawn into hard, angry lines. I've never seen him like this before; he is almost always easygoing and playful. I'm not the type of girl that can be under one's scrutiny for too long before I lash out. Because I've had enough drama to last me a lifetime, I need to remove myself from the situation before I say something I'll regret. And by this point, I'm fairly certain that Brady can see right through my bitch routine.

"I think you're right about calling Victor. I won't feel right until I can get this mess cleaned up. Sorry. Would you mind if I went to go and take a shower?"

Brady's smart; he can read the subtext which says I need to be alone for a while. "No, not at all. I could use a shower myself. I'll go back downstairs and clean up, give Victor a call, and then I'll come back up when he gets here. Does that work?"

I give him a grateful smile. "That's perfect."

Neither one of us acknowledges the fact that we both put the brakes on an intensely intimate moment. For now, it's better this way.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

I wake up slowly, groggily. My vision takes a while to clear, but when it does I can tell that I am in some old barn. It looks like it has been abandoned for a long time; dust covers almost every surface.

My mouth is covered with a piece of tape and my hands are tied behind my back with rope, but it seems loose somehow and that gives me a sliver of hope. Maybe I could free myself?

I hear someone move and I look to my left.

Nicole.

My sister is bound much in the same way that I am, though her ankles have rope around them while my legs are free. I try to call out to her, but I can't make much sound through the tape. We lock eyes, though, and I'm not surprised to find anger in her eyes rather than fear. Actually, her expression has more of a murderous rage to it. That could prove to be useful.

"Oh, good. You two are finally awake. I was getting bored."

Turner struts into the barn wielding a hunting knife with a serrated edge. He twirls it in his hand and makes it look even more menacing than it otherwise would. I don't like knives.

"How do you like your accommodations, ladies? Isn't this place great? It used to be my family farm, before the economy took a nosedive and we lost it. Now it just sits here as property of the bank. Completely uninhabited. Acres of land. Where no one will hear you scream."

He laughs as if he's told a hilarious joke and I start to really feel the impact of the situation we are in. I didn't let myself believe it before, but now I really do think we are going to die. This lunatic is going to carve me and Nicole up with that knife and bury us where no one will ever find us.

Turner comes closer to the old bale of hay that we are leaned up against. I am beginning to tremble, but I don't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing just how scared I am. He stops in front of Nicole first. I notice a gun tucked in the back of his pants when he leans down to face her. Will he shoot us or stab us? Either option would be effective.

"It wasn't supposed to happen this way, Nicole. You and I were going to enjoy one another's company for a while longer. You shouldn't have brought your little sister over tonight. She could be safe at home with your parents tonight. Selfish bitch that you are, you got her into this mess."