Final Surrender (10 page)

She looked around as he approached, nervously glancing to see who was watching.

“What, don’t want to be seen with me?” Clay barked at her when she stiffened.

“No, I don’t want to be photographed with you at the moment,” she clarified.

“Why not, will it hurt your career?” he asked caustically.

“Not that I know of, but I’ll let you know if that becomes a concern,” she replied with just enough nonchalance to hopefully get under his skin.

“Then, what? The scar is so distasteful you don’t want anyone to have proof we share the same air?” He stiffened and backed up.

“No, you ass. Your scar doesn’t bother me, though your attitude sucks. You were always hard around the edges, even when we were kids. It just adds to your mystique. So don’t put words in my mouth.” He tried to speak but nothing could stop her when she was on a roll.

“I don’t like seeing my private life on YouTube or the newspaper stand. I’ve worked really hard to keep my life just that. Mine. And the last thing I need is a picture with a cute guy to rile the gossip mongers.”

Silence filled the space between them until he asked, “So you still think I’m cute?”

She stared back at him with an incredulous sneer on her lips. “Of everything I just said, that’s what you picked up on? Great.”

She reached both her hands up and rubbed her neck. She turned around for a second and felt his eyes on her ass. It was like lover’s hands reaching up beneath her skirt. Why hadn’t she gotten laid lately? If she had, maybe craving him wouldn’t be so severe.

“Where’s Mark?” Angela asked as she let her arms fall to her sides and turned to face him.

“Waiting for the food I’m sure. It didn’t look that busy so it will probably only be a few more minutes.”

“Good,” she answered, walking away down the block.

Clay followed after her as if he were her shadow.

She stopped at the end of the block then turned to go back, and there he was standing behind her. She jumped before she could stop herself.

“The least you can do is not hover behind me. Walk beside me or not at all, got it?”

He lengthened his stride until they were side by side. “You’re quite used to getting your way, huh, princess?”

Angela snorted and shook her head. “Hardly. I just don’t trust you to walk behind me.”

Clay cocked his head to stare at her. “Why’s that?”

“Because when you’re behind me, I can feel you. Even without seeing you, I know you’re watching me. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt that and I’m honestly having a hard time with all of this, so if I need you to be in front of me, it’s for my own sanity, not selfishness.”

Well, it might have been a bit of selfishness, she thought. He was so good looking, she wanted to see him as much as possible before he left, but still be able to keep her distance.

“I’m sorry this is making life hard on you. I want to help the situation, not make it worse. Just give me a chance to figure it out and you’ll be better off.”

Like last time?
she wondered.

Utter despair rushed at her and made her feel numb. Last time. Her entire world shattered last time.

Separating herself from any other relationship with a man had obviously been her choosing and she couldn’t help questioning that decision now since she was so hyperaware of him.

The way his muscles bunched when he was frustrated and trying to keep his face free of emotion.

How he would cast her a sidelong glance and his breathing would catch just as hers did.

She knew him, still.

She wanted him.

And that scared the hell out of her, especially after so many years had passed.

Goose bumps ran up her arms as they came to a stop in front of the restaurant.

“Are you cold?” Clay asked.

“A little bit,” she answered before she thought it out.

He closed the distance between them and laid his hands on her arms.

Angela held her breath, waiting to see what he was going to do.

He stared deeply into her eyes, rubbing her arms ever so slowly to warm her.

She licked her lips nervously and he saw every lick.

The pull on her insides to claim this man’s mouth right in the middle of New York traffic was overwhelming, so she looked away and took a step to put some distance between them.

“Thanks,” she muttered as she walked to the front door of Meli Melo. She had decided waiting inside with Mark was a much better idea as she heard Clay chuckling behind her. Her pride was going to lie in shambles at his feet if she wasn’t careful. As she pulled the door open, Mark came striding out with two brown sacks of food.

“We’re all ready. Hey, you okay, Ang?” he asked, seeing the panicked look on her face.

She recovered quickly and smiled, hoping it didn’t look as fake as it felt. “Yeah, just making sure you were okay. We good to go?”

“Yeah, get a cab, I’m starving!”

Angela turned to hail a cab as one was pulling up to Clay at the curb.

They made their way to him and Mark said, “Thanks, man,” as he ducked inside with the food.

“Mademoiselle?” Clay said as he offered his hand to help her inside.

She took his solid grasp as she nearly swayed getting in.

She slid over to the middle of the backseat and tried to get a grip on herself.

Mark rambled on about something she didn’t hear and Clay climbed in next to her, brushing her arm and thigh as he shut the door.

A sigh caught in her throat as she squashed it like a bug just in time, before it escaped.

Angela told the cabbie their destination and tried to remain calm as Clay laid his arm across the back of the seat.

She felt surrounded by him and relished his nearness. All she wanted to do was lean into him and have him wrap his arm around her and make her feel safe.

Instead, she sat perfectly straight and held on to her knees to keep from laying her head on his arm. She wanted him close, but knew the consequences of that. She reminded herself she had learned her lesson last time.

Chapter Ten

A short time later, Angela and her guests sat in her kitchen upstairs, sharing food and laughing about old times. Mark was the perfect buffer to her standoffishness, and sooner than she thought possible, she relaxed. Mark was always good for toddler fun and the latest thing one of them flushed down the toilet. Clay even seemed relaxed and told Marine stories and pranks they used to pull on each other. His smile was contagious and she wanted to memorize it for when she wouldn’t see it anymore.

After a while, she excused herself to take a warm shower, and got out truly feeling relaxed. It had been a long day and she looked forward to eating some ice cream and watching TV.

She put on a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top and pulled her blow-dried hair up on top of her head.

Mark could be heard in the other room talking to Clare, and she heard him yawn and say he was going to hit the hay since he had to be out the door so early.

As he hung up the phone, Angela peeked her head in and said, “Good night, big brother.”

“Hey, come here for a second,” he requested and scooted over on the bed.

Angela walked in and sat beside him. “What is it?” she asked skeptically.

“Are you okay with all of this? I know you aren’t the best with change and this has been a whirlwind kind of day.”

She thought about it for a moment before answering honestly. “I think I’m okay. It is a heck of a lot to take in all at once, and I still have no idea how it’s going to go, but I’m willing to give it the ol’ college try.”

He pulled her into a big bear hug, which she groaned at. “Well, that’s all I can ask for, I guess.” When he released her he added, “Just give him a chance and I know it will all be perfect.”

She patted his arm and got up from the bed. Perfect was about the last word she would have used to describe this very complex situation.

“Sleep good. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“’Kay, night, Ang,” he said as he flopped over and pulled the covers up to his chin.

“Night, Mark,” she added as she turned off the light and closed the door.

Angela padded lightly down the hallway past the bathroom door. She heard the shower running and tried not to think of the path the water was traveling to get to the drain. Then she tripped over her own feet and had to catch herself on the archway leading into the living room.

“Focus,” she reminded herself with a small shake of her head, as she made her way into the kitchen and went straight to the freezer, after hesitantly depositing her extra key on the kitchen table. She’d never had reason to pull the key from the safe in her closet before and she glanced at it one more time.

She grabbed her favorite double chocolate ice cream, scooping some out.

“Think you got enough?” a sexy voice asked from behind.

She turned to find Clay leaning against the entry to the kitchen with his arms crossed in front of his bare chest. The scar on his cheek traveled all the way down his left side. Her nipples beaded at the sight and she wished she’d had the foresight to leave her hair down to cover it.

His dark hair, still wet from the shower, was darker than she remembered, and he had Snoopy and Woodstock sleep pants on, tied loosely around his waist.

The scar disappeared behind his waistband, and when her gaze finally made it back up to his face, she frowned at the smirk there.

“What did you say?” Angela questioned quickly.

“Did you get enough…” Her gaze traveled to his chest again. “Ice cream, I mean?” he amended.

Now red in the face, she snapped her head back around to find her bowl full of enough ice cream for more than two people.

A self-conscious laugh escaped her lips as she tried to figure out what to do with all of it. Then realized she had ice cream dripping onto her hand from the scoop she held.

“Guess I got a little distracted,” she answered honestly as she licked the melted chocolate off her hand.

“By what?”

She grabbed another bowl from the cupboard, scooping ice cream into it and replied, “The day in general.”

“Want to talk about it?” he asked as he moved into the kitchen.

“No,” she quipped as she put the ice cream back in the freezer and grabbed two spoons from the drawer, and a glass jar of cherries out of the fridge.

“There’s a key for you on the table for the front door. I figured you would need it.” She added a cherry to both bowls. “Hope you’re in the mood for ice cream. Want to eat in here or in the living room?”

He came forward, took one of the bowls from her and retorted, “Living room, thanks. I need to talk to you anyway.”

“That sounds scary,” she admitted as they made their way onto opposite ends of the couch.

Angela licked ice cream from her spoon and shivered. She didn’t even try to lie to herself and say it was from the cold.

Clay stared at the photograph above her mantel, a black-and-white photo that seemed to capture him in some way. He paused before turning to Angela.

“I want to know what has been happening to you the past year. If you have any idea who this fucker is that’s stalking you?”

Never one to beat around the bush.

She set her bowl down and got up to retrieve a file from her hall closet. “I can’t imagine who’s behind any of this. It still seems quite surreal that someone would do this. Or…care enough to spend so much time on this stuff.”

She placed the large manila envelope on the coffee table and opened the flap before sitting back on the couch, tucking her feet beneath her legs. It was no bigger than a regular folder holding tax returns or medical records. But it seemed larger than life because she knew what it contained. She resumed eating her ice cream and let the simple pleasure ease her sudden fears.

“That’s everything. All of the weird letters and threatening pictures, transcripts of the tapes from my phones being wired. Copies of my full case file. Lot of good any of it has done me or the detective assigned to try to help me. I hate feeling like I have to keep any of it, but I thought maybe it would help…someday.”

Clay set his empty bowl on the table and pulled out the contents. He re-adjusted himself on the couch closer to Angela. It wasn’t supposed to make her heart spike in rhythm or her breathing catch.

Those were just added bonuses
, she thought, as she tied a cherry stem in a knot with her tongue.

Clay pulled letters out, commenting on reading them the following day when his brain was more functional. “The transcripts I’ve already read from Mark and the collages seem odd, but I can’t put my finger on why yet, other than the fact that someone took lots of magazine pictures and cut them up to form your face or your name.”

Always on blank, white non-traceable paper and envelopes with standard black-and-white printed labels. And always from a different post office, according to the police report.

There were also pictures. Full eight-by-ten pictures of her out and about town, grocery shopping, or on Fashion Avenue.

“It wouldn’t be so creepy if I had an idea who it was. The thought of someone watching me is…”

“Disconcerting,” he finished for her.

“Yes,” she accepted, as a shiver from the cold ice cream crawled up her back again. So much for the hot shower.

“How are you holding up?” he asked as he turned to stare at her. He reached up and swept a few stray hairs off her shoulder.

Almost positive the beating of her heart could be heard across the room, much less two feet away to her, she swallowed and said, “Fine,” in a breathless whisper.

“You don’t look fine, Angela.”

“I don’t think that has anything to do with the stalker.”

“Then what does it have to do with?”

His fingers grazed her shoulder and she wanted to lean into his touch. She craved his caress and his lips that were so close.

“Something I can’t have,” she admitted on a shaky breath, standing on even shakier legs.

Quickly, she gathered their dirty dishes and escaped to the kitchen.

She froze by the sink as cold breath touched her ear a second before he ground out, “What can’t you have?”

He had been so quiet, she never heard him approach. Now she felt him everywhere. Surrounding her.

He pinned her between his almost naked body and the countertop then ran his fingers down her arm to turn off the water.

He wrapped his protective arms around her, rendering her speechless. His lips trailed along her shoulder and she leaned her head away to give him better access as a sigh escaped her lips.

Somewhere between heaven and hell was where she now found herself.

His warmth heated her backside as she shivered at the cold of the counter in front of her.

“I can’t have you,” she said, trying to convince them both.

His fingertips slid over her silky skin as he pulled the strap on her tank top down her arm.

A moan left her lips and he ground his erection into her backside, her knees almost buckling from the temptation standing behind her.

“Turn around,” he demanded.

Her fingers dug into the sink as she tried to stand her ground. “I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” he debated as he took love bites out of her neck. Nibbling the skin softly, just how she remembered him licking her pussy so many years before. A little bit of teeth, sweet and hard all wrapped into one mind-numbing orgasm…

She tried to step away but he caught her, twisted her around and trapped her again.

This time she didn’t have the safety of the cold metal sink to hold on to. This time her hands settled on his warm chest that tightened under her fingers. From the cold or her fingers, she didn’t care.

He groaned as his hands finally found her lower back beneath her tank top.

“You feel even better than I remember, Angela. I’ve wanted you so fucking bad. I was hoping it would lessen, that I could just let you leave and go back to my life, but it hasn’t worked out that way.”

Angela listened to him, but didn’t really hear what he was saying. Her hands were on a mission, to feel every inch of his exposed skin.

The scars mesmerized her. They were sexy and fascinating and they held a story that she’d had no right to hear earlier. She could tell he didn’t like them, but he never retreated from her touch.

She took her time, memorizing the feel of him and saved the best for last.

His face.

“I’ve dreamed of this,” she admitted in a dazed tone, as she ran her fingertips over his jaw and lips then finally, his scar. He stiffened and his breath caught when she touched it.

She knew he didn’t want her pity, but it wasn’t pity that made her lean closer, on tiptoes, to brush her lips against the scar tissue.

Down his chest, she left a trail of kisses, until he gently pulled her back up to him.

Dark eyes filled with lust awaited her when she looked up from beneath lashes heavy with desire.

He captured her chin with his fingers and leaned down to within a breath’s distance from her lips. “What have you dreamed of, Angela?”

“You,” she answered simply before he captured her mouth with his.

His hand cupped her jaw as the other speared into her hair, crushing them together, while he expertly explored her lips with his tongue.

Angela ran her hands around his back and pulled him closer, sucking on his tongue, when she wanted something else in her mouth. The thought made her crave him even more.

She leaned in closer and rubbed her tight nipples against his chest, needing relief from the tension building feverishly in her core.

Need filled her pussy, her lips throbbing against her swollen clit.

Clay maneuvered her back against a wall in the kitchen and she felt his weight against her, his erection pulsing against her midsection.

He moaned into her mouth when she wrapped her fingers around the length of him and stroked him through his pants.

She wanted him inside her—his might, his dominance to quell the desire spiraling through her. It made her weak.

She knew she should stop him, demand he leave immediately, but couldn’t find the strength to pull away. He felt too good. Safe and dangerous wrapped into a sexy-as-sin package.

Her tank top strap was pushed farther down her body and one heavy breast was finally exposed to his fingers and lips.

Angela leaned her head back against the wall as his hungry mouth descended to the pink tip of one of her tingling nipples.

“Do you know how beautiful you are? Do you know how much I want you right now?” he asked as he licked her again, sucking her berry-tipped breast. “I want you so fucking bad, Angela. I want you beneath me. I want to be pumping inside you while you beg for more.”

If he wasn’t careful, she’d come without him even touching her below the waist.

She reluctantly released his hard dick and pulled him back up to stand in front of her, while she stood on tiptoes.

He had to lean his hands against the wall beside her when she ran her fingers against his hard nipples and whispered in his hair, “I want to ride you until morning.”

She ran her tongue on the edge of his ear and pulled his ass closer to her. “I want you inside me. I want to feel nothing else but your touch, I want…” was the last thing she said before she heard the door latch release on the guest room where Mark was sleeping.

Angela scrambled under one of Clay’s arms and pulled her arm away when he tried to grab it.

What in the world had she been thinking? Reality hit her like a tsunami and shame overtook her.

She adjusted her tank top.

Nothing but heartache could come of this and she was smarter than that.

At least she thought she was.

Mark probably heard voices raised,
God let that be all he heard
, as he made his way to the kitchen. Her standing at the sink, head slightly down, fumbling with a washrag she was trying to get water on didn’t look suspicious at all. Not. At. All.

Clay’s back was to him, exposing his clenched fists, but hiding the huge erection pointing directly at her.

She hoped Mark couldn’t see her own swollen lips and red marks on her collarbone she could see in the reflection of the backsplash.