Edge of the Heat (Westwood Harbor Corruption) (10 page)

Craig didn't say anything. There was nothing he could say. She was right.

They walked in silence for a bit. Emma fumed, but started to calm down after a few blocks. Craig, lost in his own thoughts was startled by her next question and the vehemence with which she asked it.

"I just hate it when men aren't what they seem to be! Are you what you seem to be Craig?"

Here we go.
Craig hated lying to anyone, but he especially hated lying to Emma. The thought of it pained his heart, especially since he knew there was a chance she would hate him when she found out he was lying to her about who he was. He couldn't bear the thought of it.

"What do I seem to be Emma?"

Emma chewed her lip and stopped walking, pulling him around towards her by their linked hands. "You seem to be a good guy, a nice guy, a decent man who wouldn't hurt anyone if he didn't have to."

"I try very hard, every day to be one of the good guys Emma." He pulled her closer, noting her eyes were still sparking with anger. Craig ran a thumb over one of her eyebrows, trying to relax it.

Emma dropped his hand and snaked her fingers into his hair, bending his head down towards hers. Eyes wide open, fire filling them, she parted her lips, inviting him. He locked his eyes on her sexy mouth, and bent to her. Her clean woman scent filled his nostrils and drove his lust.

It had b
een a long time since he'd been with a woman. There had been a few badge bunnies after Lucy died, but nothing about casual sex was satisfying to him. He might as well masturbate. Plus, it was easier to disentangle himself after. Emma was the first woman since Lucy that he found interesting enough to date.

She broke the kiss and looked at him like he was her prey. The look in her eyes thrilled him. She grabbed his hand again and pulled him towards home.

Once on the porch, she entangled her fingers around his neck and kissed him before they went in the door. He lifted her easily and carried her onto the couch silently. Her hands and lips were everywhere as she pulled off his t-shirt and bared his chest. She stared hungrily at him, making a small mewling noise and pulling him down to her.

Emma moved under him, pushing her body up towards his. She pulled at his hair and bit at his bottom lip. Desire exploded in his mind and his body at her aggressiveness. He had time to wonder if he should pull back, if this pass
ion was fueled by her anger at Norman, but then she put her hand down to the zipper of his jeans and the thought fled. He was hard and ready for her. She palmed him through his jeans and ran her hand down his length.

The sensation floored him. It had been
so long for him. It felt so good he couldn't stand it. He groaned, unable to think. He bent to her again and kissed a trail down her neck to her chest. She let go of his erection and grasped his hips, pulling them down. Hard. He mouthed her nipples through her shirt and watched her squirm under him.

"Craig," she gasped. "I want you."

"I want you too sweetness." The words seemed inadequate. He wanted to be inside her. To own her body. To be one with her. To meld their very souls.

The thought made him go c
arnal. He felt like an animal. Like all thoughts were driven from his body and he was just nerve endings, calling out for release. He ground his hardness into her softest spot and she sucked in a breath. He propped himself up on his elbows and undid the buttons on her shirt, spying a lacy pink bra barely hiding unbelievably perfect and lush breasts. She pushed her chest into him, welcoming his hands. "Craig, craig, love ..."

"Yes sweetness, yes," he whispered back. He couldn't believe his good fortune, here
with one of the most beautiful and amazing women he had ever known, and she seemed to want him as much as he wanted her. For once, things were going his way. Very much his way.

As if his thoughts of how good things were caused them to go as bad as possibl
e, Emma stopped and went rigid beneath him. Her face was unreadable, but she seemed on the verge of tears. He stroked her hair. "Em?"

Her shoulders shook. She was silently crying.

"Oh Craig, this isn't a good idea. I don't know what I was doing, I am so sorry."

He sat up and pulled her to him. "Sweetheart, don't be sorry, it's OK."

"No Craig you don't understand, it's not OK. I want to love you but I can't. I won't. I have been leading you on by going on dates with you. I should not be dating you." Anguish filled her eyes and voice.

Craig was confused by her words, but didn't want her to think that he cared if she wasn't ready for anything physical with him.

"Shhh, it's OK. I don't mind at all. I just want you to be happy, to feel comfortable," he told her, trying to hug her to him.

"You should go."

He wanted to stay and comfort her, and was surprised by this declaration.

"Really? We don't have to do anything Emma, we can just sit and talk or watch a movie. I will never pressure you. We are both adults here.
I'm not expecting marriage or anything."

He wondered if she was seeing someone else and that's what this was about. It seemed pretty unlikely with everything that had happened with Norman in the past.

She crumpled forward hiding her face. Again her shoulders shook. He just wanted to cradle her in his arms and comfort her like a child. He hated seeing her like this. He thought there was much more to this woman than he could begin to know, and this part may not have anything to do with Norman.

"No, you shoul
d go Craig. Before I do something I regret. It's complicated. I don't know how to explain. I don't want to hurt you, but I shouldn't be here with you right now either."

"Ok Emma, if that's what you want." Craig, hurt, moved to the door. Just know I am here
for you any time, and if you need anything - anything at all - you call me first, OK?"

She grinned a sad grin at him. "Thank you."

Emma watched Craig drive away from her bedroom window. Only when she could no longer see the light from his
car did she let out the tears. Great, wracking sobs threatened to tear her breath from her. That was the hardest thing she had ever done in her life. Way harder than divorcing Norman.

You weren't in love with Norman anymore once you asked him for a divorc
e,
an inner voice told her gently.

That was it. That was the reason for everything. Craig was so gentle, and so good, and she was afraid she was falling in love with him. It couldn't be. It couldn't happen. He wasn't her dream man, because he wasn't the ma
n from the vision, so what was she doing, going and falling in love with him? This voice in her head was harsh and unstoppable.
Emma, you are a complete idiot and jerk for leading that sweet man on.

What could she say? Nothing. She was an idiot, and she wa
s a jerk.

What was she going to do now?

Her sobbing reached a fevered pitch. Some inner critic wondered if the neighbors could hear her. Even that thought didn't quiet her.
Damn the neighbors. My life is a mess. It's my mess and I can cry if I want
.

Emma h
ugged the wall to her bedroom, where no one would be watching her that night. She fell on the bed with her clothes still on, and cried until she fell asleep.

***

Emma awoke at 4 in the morning, disoriented, wondering what she had forgotten. Work! Her eyes were grainy and swollen. She pulled herself to the bathroom. She didn't need to be at work for a few hours, but it would probably take a while to get her looking decent, so she got moving.

In the shower, she made a decision. She was calling Reece today. Ma
ybe she hadn't given him the benefit of the doubt before. Maybe they should do something other than go to a restaurant. Maybe she should invite him over to her house, or go hiking with him. Hiking. That stung. She had been hiking with Craig yesterday and they had laughed so much, and had so much fun. Craig. She missed him already.

***

Work dragged on and on. Jerry was his usual happy self, and bugged her constantly to tell her what was wrong. She didn't say. Couldn't say. Jerry wouldn't understand. On their first call with Engine 18 Emma held her breath, hardly able to concentrate as the firefighters came up. Craig wasn't with them. Thank goodness.

When she could slip away from Jerry long enough to make a phone call she called Reece. He sounded very happy to
hear from her.
Well that's good at least.
She invited him to her house, but he said why didn't she come to his place instead. Tomorrow night at 8 p.m. At the Coronado building. She hung up, glad, but with the lead weight still squeezing her heart with every breath. Hopefully by tomorrow things would look better.

***

Emma entered the elevator in the Coronado building, wearing a breezy blue skirt that swirled around her ankles as she walked. She always felt feminine and pretty in this skirt, especially paired with a silk tank and with her hair down and bouncy. It didn't work today. Today, her feet felt as leaden as her heart had yesterday. While she was getting ready, she kept telling herself to cancel, but then she kept telling herself not to cancel, she needed to get on with her non-Craig life.

Reece's unit was on the 14th floor. She noticed their was no 13th floor button in the elevator. That meant Reece was actually on the 13th floor.
I guess he's not superstitious.

She rang his doorbell. He was quick to
open and gave her a broad smile.

"Emma, I am so perfectly thrilled to see you again," he said, grasping her hand and kissing the back of it just a little to long.

"Thank you Reece," she said softly. She didn't have the energy for much more than a whisper.

"Emma, you look sad, is there something wrong?"

Emma sighed internally and gave herself a mental slap in the face.
Wake up! Get over it!

She forced a smile, "No, sorry, I might just be a little tired."

"Well have a seat, I will get you some wine."

Emma did
n't like wine too much, but right now, any liquor sounded good.

She sat down on the couch and put her clutch down on the table, then gratefully accepted her glass and took several tiny sips. This wasn't too bad.

Reece sat down on the couch next to her, a little too close. Using a remote, he turned on some music and sat back, putting an arm around her.

Emma looked around the apartment to avoid looking right at him. He was moving too fast. She felt a bit uncomfortable and thought maybe getting up would help.
His apartment was large and gorgeous. Hard, dark wood covered the floors and walls and wooden shelves were built in from floor to ceiling between the kitchen and living room. Small wooden statues that looked like idols or gods from ancient times sat in each cubby of the shelves.

"Wow, you are an art lover Reece?" she asked, getting up from the couch with her drink in her hand.

Reece caught her around the waist with both hands and pulled her back to the couch, almost spilling her drink.

Emma's guard went up
immediately.
What was that? What is he doing?
She scootched away from him a bit on the couch and looked at him, eyes wide.

"Relax Emma, dinner is in the oven, sit here on the couch with me for a bit. We can get to know each other better before we eat." He
waggled his eyebrows up and down once, then again. Emma felt a bit sick to her stomach. Was he propositioning her? Here on the couch? Before dinner? Ridiculous thoughts filled her head. Something was different with Reece, and she didn't like it. Anxiety filled her throat.

She got up again and backed away from him so he couldn't pull her back down. She sat her drink down on the coffee table and said, "I'll stand, thanks."

More anxiety filled her throat. She hated confrontation, and she dreaded having to tell him to back off. What was she doing here again?

He stood up too, walking towards her, an evil, teasing glint in his eyes. "Emma, Emma, you are tantalizing Emma, you really know how to turn a man on."

She backed up again until her back hit the wall. He came right on in, taking it as an invitation. He put his hands on her shoulders and lowered his face to hers, forcing his tongue between her lips.

Emma was stunned. This wasn't happening. What was he doing?

His hands roamed her body and found her breasts. They squeezed cruelly. He mashed his groin against hers, and she could feel he had an erection.

That snapped her out of it. She could hurt him badly, she knew ways to do it. She could bite his tongue off right now and spit it in his face. Instead, she grabb
ed his right hand with her left and twisted it harshly backwards, forcing him away from her. Using her other hand, she got under his elbow and pushed up, hard, torquing his body back and to the ground. She knew it hurt - she'd had it done on her in self-defense class.

Stunned, he lay still for a second. Then he climbed to his feet, anger flashing in his eyes.

Emma kicked off her shoes. If she was going to have to throw down with this man, her low heels would only hinder her. She faced him in the stance they had taught her and looked past him, to the door. Was the deadbolt locked? She didn't remember.

"What the hell are you doing? I know you like it rough, but I don't. You don't get to beat me up!" Reece spit at her, rubbing his arm.

The words shocked her. "What do you mean, I like it rough? What are you talking about?" she spit back.

"Your friend, he told me what you like. He told me you like it rough and you like to pretend that you are the innocent, helpless girl who doesn't really want to have sex, but th
at's what you really want."

Emma reeled. This was worse than the tongue in her mouth. What friend would say that about her? Why would he believe it. This whole evening was surreal.

"
Who
told you that?" Emma practically screamed at him. She felt like her sanity was flying apart.

"Your friend, your partner, the man you ride the ambulance with."

"Jerry? Jerry told you that?"

"Yes Jerry," Reece smiled like it was all a big misunderstanding and now they could get back to business. He took a step towards her.

Emma looked wildly around for a weapon. Reece wasn't that much bigger than her, but he was still a man, probably stronger with more muscle.

She stepped quickly to her left, back still against the wall and grabbed a vase, brandishing it over her head.

"Stay away from me," she growled at him.

He stopped.

"I don't know who told you that Reece, but I know it wasn't Jerry. And it isn't true! I don't like to play sex games and I don't like it rough and I don't want you to touch me!" Her voice rose at the end. She didn't like the sound of it. She hated feeling out of control.

He eyed the vase and weighed her words. He walked to the couch and sat down. "OK, whatever you want. Just don't clobber me with that thing."

She relaxed and put the vase back. "I'm going to get my purse from the table and go."

She got her shoes first, and then her clutch, eyes on him the entire time. When he didn't move, she took a deep breath and headed for the door. All she wanted was to get out of here, and then she would figure out what happe
ned.

She knew turning her back on him was a mistake as soon as she heard the couch cushions move.
Would this nightmare never end?

She tried to turn, but he caught her around the waist and around the throat, her purse shooting out of her hand. He squeezed b
oth and pulled her backwards, towards the hallway. She didn't have enough air to scream. She went dead-weight in his arms, hoping to fall to the floor and pull out of his grip. All that happened was her shoes pulled off her feet. He kept pulling her backwards easily. He was stronger than he looked. That was bad news for her.

Through the hallway and into a bedroom he pulled her. Face down on the bed she went, his entire weight on top of her. He squeezed her throat harder, and groped her ass with his other ha
nd. Again, she felt his erection against her.

"Your friend also told me that you would fight and pretend you didn't want this, but that you really did. He said you told him to tell me all this. He said I should choke you until you passed out because that w
as your favorite thing. Is it Emma? Do you like to wake up tied to the bed and being ravished? I bought some new toys today just for you."

Bile rose in Emma's throat. She couldn't believe this was happening. He couldn't really believe it, could he? He must
though. He was a doctor, with so much to lose if he didn't. He must think this is all an act. But still, what kind of a man would do it?

He wasn't really choking her hard enough for her to pass out yet, she could still get a small breath when his weight
shifted. She was afraid that wouldn't last long though. Adrenaline fueling her actions, she struggled, but she wasn't able to lift his body weight or get a good hold on him from behind.
Think Emma, damnit, think! Before you pass out!
The need to take a full breath consumed her.

She went slack, limp, hoping he would think she was passed out.

"Good girl," he cooed and slackened his grip on her throat enough so she could drag in a partial breath. He shifted his weight and lifted his head but his grip slammed down on her throat again. Emma saw a slim chance and hoped the positioning was right, if not, she really was going to pass out.

She felt for his face with the back of his head. Yes he was right there! She dropped her head forward and pistoned it back with e
very ounce of strength she had. She didn't feel it at all, with the adrenaline pumping through her system, but the
chunk
noise of bone hitting bone

(
or maybe cartilage - hopefully cartilage?
)

was very satisfying. She was rewarded by Reece crying out and
letting go of her throat completely.

Breath. Air. Sweet air filled her lungs. Her throat burned but her lungs sang. She pushed off the bed, easily rolling Reece's weight off of her this time.

He fell to the floor with a thump. She stood up, hunched over, fingers at her throat, sucking air into her lungs. He was on the floor holding his nose. Blood squirted around his hands and stained his expensive shirt.

"You
bitch
!" he yelled, eyes wide in disbelief.

Emma backed out the door, eyes on him the whole time. S
he backed down the hall, sucking air greedily. She didn't stop for her bag, but backed all the way to the door. It didn't open. She chanced a look at it and twisted the deadbolt.  Still no movement from the hall. A snick told her the deadbolt was open. The door pulled open and she ran down the hall in her bare feet to the flashing exit sign.