Vulnerable: (McIntyre Security Bodyguard Series - Book 1) (18 page)

“Beth, you panicked on me last night. I don’t want to make the same mistake twice. If you confide in me, I’ll be better prepared.”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Sweetheart, you said someone hurt you. The last thing I want to do is hurt you, but if I don’t know what happened – ”

“No!” She moved out of his reach. “If I tell you, then tonight won’t happen.” He was right, but she also knew that if she had to relive that nightmare, she would be a wreck afterwards. Already she was feeling panicked just thinking about it.

“Take your pick!” she said, fear and frustration taking over. “Sex or my traumatic life story, but you can’t have both. I can’t handle both in one night.”

Shane rubbed a hand over his face, clearly struggling with competing desires. He sighed. “Beth.”

He had a way of speaking that grounded her, both commanding and comforting at the same time. When he said her name like that, in that steadying tone, her mounting anxiety simply deflated.

“Please, not tonight,” she said, her voice no more than a whisper. “I don’t want to talk about it. I promise I will, soon, just not tonight. I want tonight to happen.”

“It will happen,” he said, coming toward her. He took her in his arms. “I just don’t want to make any mistakes, Beth.”

She looked up into his face. “On second thought, I will have that drink.”

He looked at her, and for a moment she thought he was going to say no.

“All right,” he finally said. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “But if I fuck this up, just remember who made the ultimatum here. It wasn’t me.”

“If anyone messes up tonight, it won’t be you,” she said.

He tucked a tendril of her hair behind her ear. “I promised I wouldn’t let you run, remember?” He placed a gentle kiss on her lips, then took her hand and led her to the living area. “Come.”

“Have a seat,” he said, and she sat down on a soft leather sofa that stood facing yet another wood-burning stone hearth.

Shane walked to the wet bar and pulled two tumblers from an overhead cupboard, along with a bottle of amber-colored liquor. Beth watched as he poured a scant half-inch of the liquor into one glass and a more generous amount into the other. Then he opened a bottle of water and added a dash of water into each glass.

“Have you ever had whiskey?” he asked, picking up both glasses and gently swirling them.

“No.”

He sat on the coffee table facing Beth and handed her the glass with the smaller amount of liquor in it.

After peering into the glass, she sniffed it and made a face.

“Sip it slowly,” he cautioned her.

She took a hesitant sip of her drink and immediately began a violent coughing fit. “You drink this on purpose?” she said, gasping as the liquor burned the back of her throat on its way down.

Shane laughed. “Yes.” He took a sip of his drink. “I guess it’s an acquired taste.”

Beth took another sip, and this one burned just as badly. She swallowed with a scowl. “I don’t think I’ve acquired it.” She coughed again. “My throat’s on fire.”

He smiled at her. “You don’t have to finish it, sweetheart,” he said, reaching for her glass.

“No, I’ll finish it,” she said, looking dubiously at her glass. “I think I’ll need it.”

Shane set his glass down on the coffee table and stood. “Hold on.” He retrieved a small bottle of Coke from the fridge and brought it and the bottle of whiskey back.

“See if this helps,” he said, filling her small glass with Coke. Then he poured himself a second shot of whiskey, neat, and set the bottle on the coffee table.

Beth took a sip of her whiskey and Coke. “That’s much better,” she said, relieved. She could still taste a hint of the whiskey, but it was greatly mellowed out by the sweetness of the soft drink. It didn’t burn nearly as badly when it went down.

Shane chuckled, shaking his head. “I just mixed a 21-year-old Scotch whiskey with a soft drink.”

She froze. “Is that bad?”

He savored a sip of his two-grand a bottle whiskey and swallowed. “No, sweetheart,” he said, smiling at her. “It’s fine.”

Beth returned his smile, feeling like her heart was being squeezed in her chest. He amazed her with his gentleness and patience. She hadn’t known him very long, and already she trusted him more than she’d ever trusted anyone outside her family and Gabrielle. God, she wanted this to happen.

“Don’t let me run,” she said quietly.

Shane’s gaze darkened as he knocked back the rest of his whiskey. “I won’t,” he said in a gruff voice, wincing at the burn.

She laughed. “I thought you said to sip it.”

“I’m way past sipping now.”

Shane set his empty glass on the coffee table and leaned forward, cupping the back of Beth’s head with his broad palm. He pulled her forward, and they met halfway. When his mouth came down on hers, it was hot and urgent. Their tongues clashed, and she tasted the sweetness of the Coke, the pungency of the whiskey, and Shane. His mouth devoured hers hungrily. She thought she must be feeling the effects of the whiskey now because her belly warmed, and she began to tingle all over.

“Lights fifty percent,” he said, and the room dimmed, leaving them in a cozy, twilight setting. He looked at her. “You said earlier that your previous attempts at intimacy didn’t go well.”

She nodded.
Oh, crap
. Her body was loosening up nicely and starting to buzz, and he wanted to talk?

“Tell me what happened,” he said.

She attempted to pull back, wanting to put some distance between them, but he held her fast with a hand at her back of her head.

“I need you to tell me, Beth,” he said, looking her directly in the eye. “Why didn’t they go well? What went wrong?”

Mortified, she felt her face burn. She
so
didn’t want to talk about this right now. It might ruin any chance she had of getting through this night.

“Beth, please,” he said. “If you want this to turn out differently, you have to talk to me. I sure as hell don’t want to make the same mistakes someone else made.”

“I know,” she said, frustrated. “It’s just hard to talk about.”

He watched her expectantly, waiting for an answer. Beth figured they would be here all night if she didn’t tell him what he wanted to know.

“Can I have more whiskey?” She figured a little more of that fire warming her belly wouldn’t hurt.

He didn’t look overly happy at the idea, but he acquiesced. “Just a little bit.” He poured another half-inch of whiskey into her glass and added a generous amount of Coke.

She peered into her glass. “That wasn’t very much whiskey.”

“It’s enough,” he said. “The goal is to help you relax, not get you drunk.”

Copying him, she knocked back her drink in one swallow. Her eyes burned from the combination of the whiskey and the carbonation of the soft drink.

“Jesus, Beth!” Shane took the glass from her and set it next to his on the coffee table.

They both started laughing.

He couldn’t help himself. He leaned forward and kissed her, his lips clinging to hers. “Is the whiskey helping?”

“I think so,” she said, losing herself in his beautiful eyes. “I can’t feel my toes anymore.”

Chapter 16

Shane moved to the sofa and hauled Beth onto his lap and turned her so that she was sitting sideways. He removed her sandals and tucked her bare feet up on the sofa cushions. “Now, talk to me.”

When she didn’t say anything, he made a frustrated noise that sounded an awful lot like a growl to her.

“You’d better start talking, Beth, unless you’re ready to experience your first spanking.”

She knew from the tone of his voice that he was just kidding about the spanking. Still, the idea of lying bare-bottom across his lap made her tingle from head to toe – and that had nothing to do with the whiskey. For a moment, she thought about simply calling his bluff and taking him up on his offer.

She could tell from his resolute expression that he wasn’t going to let her distract him, so she took a deep breath and let the words pour out of her. “I panic when I’m pinned down.”

His entire body tensed, but his voice was calm when he said, “Go on.”

“I can’t bear to be pinned down or restrained. When I tried to have sex before, and... he was on top...” She shuddered. It was such a painful memory, and she’d been so humiliated.

“Jesus, sweetheart,” he said, his lips in her hair. One of his hands came up and rubbed her back, while his other arm settled around her waist. After a long pause, he said, “Have you ever tried being on top?”

“No.”

“Would you be willing to try that?”

She chuckled nervously. “I’ll try anything.”

“Okay. What about the lights? Tell me about the lights.”

“I’m afraid of the dark,” she admitted, feeling ridiculous. Apparently the whiskey was loosening her tongue as well as warming her belly.
Good grief! What 24-year-old is afraid of the dark?

But she figured she might as well lay it all out there, expose all of her dirty little secrets now and get it over with. He’d find it all out eventually, if he hung in there long enough.

“Can you tell me why?”

His voice was so gentle, so non-judgmental, it made her want to cry. She could feel panic beginning to circle around her, like a vulture searching for easy prey, ready to swoop in and consume her at its first opportunity.

“I don’t want to talk anymore, Shane.” Her voice was small and tinged with defeat. She was trying so desperately to hold back the tears and tamp down the fear.

He was silent for a long moment. “All right. It’s enough for now.”

Shane helped Beth to her feet and led her by the hand to the bed. “Sit,” he said.

The bed was clearly the focal piece of the room. It had a dark chocolate brown upholstered headboard and a pair of mahogany nightstands, one on each side of the bed, each holding a lamp. Like the rest of the room, the bed was decorated in neutrals. The sheets were cream, and the pillows echoed the dark brown theme. A padded bench stood at the foot of the bed. Beneath the bed was a large plush rug in the same shade of dark chocolate. The wall behind the bed had been made from vintage red bricks, which added to the industrial-chic feel of the decor.

Beth climbed up on the high bed and sat watching Shane warily. He seemed hesitant all of a sudden, and she was afraid he was going to change his mind about sex. Or worse yet, he might decide she was simply too much effort. She knew without a doubt that he never had to work this hard to get laid.

The fear that he was on the verge of changing his mind gave her the motivation to move. She slipped off the bed and walked toward him. “I want to do this, Shane.”

When he didn’t make a move toward her, she reached for the placket of his shirt and started unbuttoning it from the top down. Shane stood passively, watching her nimble fingers release each button. He did nothing to help her, and yet he didn’t stop her either. Once she had the shirt unbuttoned, she pushed it off his broad shoulders and watched it slip to the rug at their feet.

As her eyes swept over his chest, her breath hitched in her throat and she swallowed. His chest was ... beautiful. All sculpted muscles and hard planes, covered with a light dusting of brown hair that converged into a happy trail that disappeared beneath the waistband of his trousers. There were numerous faded scars on his chest, long and jagged, undoubtedly souvenirs from his time in the military, but they only added to his attractiveness.

She reached for his belt, and when he did nothing to stop her, she unbuckled it and pulled it from his trousers, letting it drop to the rug with a dull thud.

His lips twitched, and he raised an eyebrow at her as if to say
Okay, now what?
That little bit of encouragement was all she needed to reach for the button on his trousers. Damn, she should have insisted on having more whiskey; this probably would’ve been a lot easier. As it was, she couldn’t believe this beautiful man was standing before her, letting her undress him.

After unbuttoning his trousers, she pulled his zipper down gingerly, careful of the impressive erection pressing against his trousers. Shane let his trousers drop to the floor, too, leaving him standing there in his black boxers. A magnificent erection tented the silky material.

“You’ve come this far,” he said, his voice like gravel. “For God’s sake, don’t stop now.”

Beth felt her face go up in flames, but she wasn’t about to stop. She was pretty sure he was testing her, to make sure this was really something she wanted. Surprisingly, she found that she liked the feeling of control. Shane was letting her call the shots, and she liked it.

She took hold of the waistband of his shorts and eased it carefully over his erection.

“It won’t break, you know,” he said, chuckling. He helped just a little bit, speeding things along. And then his shorts joined the rest of his clothing on the rug.

Beth had barely gotten a glimpse of his erection before he reached around her and knocked the throw pillows off the bed. He yanked the comforter and top sheet to the foot of the bed.

“My turn,” he said. “Turn around.” He motioned with his finger.

She turned her back to Shane, and he slowly unzipped her dress and pushed it off her shoulders. He caught it before it hit the floor and draped it neatly over the bench.

She felt chilled standing there in only her bra and half-slip. Her loose updo exposed the graceful curve of her neck, and Shane touched the small indent at the base of her skull with his index finger and dragged his finger down the center of her back. She shivered at his touch. He pulled off her slip and laid it on the bench, and then she felt his warm fingers as they unclasped her bra. He peeled her bra off slowly, and it too ended up on the bench.

“Turn around, Beth,” he said, his voice low and rough.

As she turned to face him, her hands came up to cover her bare breasts. It was an automatic reflex. She’d always been self-conscious about her body.

Shane sat on the edge of the bed, less than a foot from her, and he seemed perfectly comfortable in his bare skin. He didn’t seem the slightest bit embarrassed, and why should he? His body was a work of art. She glanced down at his erection, which was defying gravity as it strained eagerly upward. His penis was long and thick, flushed a deep, ruddy color in arousal. She forced herself to drag her gaze away from his erection and noticed that he was watching her.