Giving In: Surrender Trilogy (14 page)

She stared incredulously at him. The things she’d said to him had sent every other man she’d ever attempted to date running for the door like the hounds of hell were after them. And yet Jensen wasn’t remotely put off by her “issues.” If anything they seemed to make him more determined to break through those walls she’d erected. Walls that had been solidly in place her entire adult life and most of her childhood.

She’d learned at a very young age how to protect her mind, her sanity. To shut out the world around her and stay in self-preservation mode. It had served her well, but had made personal relationships impossible. Because who wanted to deal with such a head case, much less make a commitment to one?

She glanced down at her plate, surprised to see it was empty, then she looked over at Jensen’s to find he too was finished. What now? Once again, she felt the awkwardness of not knowing what came next.

The movie. He had a movie. The plan was to eat dinner and watch a movie. Simple enough. She could handle that.

“You ready for the movie?” she asked, proud of the initiative she took. “I’ll just put the plates in the sink and wash them later. Why don’t you go start up the movie and I’ll bring us both a glass of wine, unless you’d prefer something else?”

“Wine is fine. Your company is what I want most. Anything else is just bonus material.”

Damn it. What to even say to that? He was seducing her with mere words and that heart-melting, warm, fuzzy smile he sent her way every so often. He hadn’t even tried to get into her pants and they were already halfway down.

Disgusted with her raging hormones—why had they picked now to rear their ugly head?—she took the plates and did a quick rinse before leaving them in the sink to take care of later.

She took a moment to compose herself and calm her racing pulse down. It was just a movie.
For God’s sake, get it together.

She poured two glasses of wine, though she had no intention of drinking hers. She’d already had her limit and the last thing she wanted was a fuzzy head. Jensen did that to her all on his own. No alcohol needed, though the liquid courage aspect might be appealing.

When she entered the living room, Jensen was leaning back on the couch looking very much at home. The remote was in his hand and he had the movie paused at the beginning. She didn’t even know what they were watching. Did it matter? She doubted she’d remember much of it anyway.

He held out his hand to her, not for the wine, but to take her hand once she placed the glasses on the coffee table. She allowed him to slide his fingers through hers and pull her gently to the couch beside him.

“There, that’s better,” he murmured. “Now the evening can begin.”

“What are we watching?” she asked.

“Some zombie apocalypse movie,” he said with a twist of his lips. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. I had to be careful with my selection so you didn’t read anything into my choice or my intentions.”

“So should I worry that you’ll bite me and infect me with some virulent strain of some super virus?” she said dryly.

He chuckled. “I like your sense of humor, Kylie. It fits mine well. Though some would likely argue that neither of us has one. But I think we fit just fine.”

Her cheeks warmed because no, no one had ever accused her of having a sense of humor, twisted or not.

He laid his arm over the top of the couch, a silent invitation for her to move closer. She hesitated at first, not wanting to be obvious, but she found herself gravitating to the warmth and strength of his body.

Soon she was cuddled up next to him, his arm hung loosely over her shoulders. His fingers danced idly over her upper arm, eliciting a trail of chill bumps. His touch was like fire, even through her shirt. She tried to focus on the movie but found herself increasingly distracted by her proximity to his body.

At one point she turned to look at him only to find him staring intently at her, his eyes glowing. So very warm. Comforting. Unconsciously she leaned in, not even realizing what she was doing. He met her advance and brushed his lips softly across hers.

It was an electrical shock to her system. She shivered uncontrollably and then he deepened the kiss, his tongue swiping over her lips, licking and then sliding inside to brush over hers.

He tasted of the wine they’d drunk. That and something altogether different. Heady. Masculine. The taste was undefinable. But she liked it. A lot.

She breathed out a soft sigh as his arms wrapped around her, turning her more solidly so the angle was better. His lips never left hers, his mouth devouring hers hungrily.

She was lost in a cascade of sensation, dizzying, intensely pleasurable and also warm and soothing. Her breasts ached, pressed flat against his chest. Her nipples beaded, pushing outward as if begging for his attention. His mouth.

Shocked that she’d have such a thought, she went still, the strong beat of his heart thudding against her chest. His respirations were fast, rushing into her mouth and over her face.

And then he lowered her to the couch, angling his body over hers, pressing hard and heavy down on her. Panic snaked up her spine as dark memories surfaced, clawing their way to the present.

She lost her sense of awareness. Of where she was and who she was with. All she knew was that she was in immediate danger. His strength overwhelmed her. She felt helpless. Weak. Unable to prevent whatever he wanted to do to her.

Blackness gushed through her mind, wiping away all sense of euphoria and safety. Her chest caught on fire as she desperately tried to breathe but found no air. Her throat constricted as she tried to scream. To beg him to stop. To have mercy. Not to hurt her.

And then self-preservation kicked in and she began to fight. She went wild beneath this predator, wanting only to escape the harm he intended. She scratched, kicked, and finally was able to gather enough breath to scream.

Hysteria rose sharp, quickly overwhelming her. She was unaware of the firm hands around her wrists, holding them so she couldn’t hurt him or herself. Of the soothing voice calling her name. Telling her it was all right.

She dimly registered those things, but they were so distant. All she was cognizant of was her will to survive. Not to ever again endure what she’d endured before.

Tears bathed her face and she became aware of a high keening sound. It was coming from her. God, it was her making that god-awful sound. Why wouldn’t it stop?

“Kylie! Kylie! Listen to me. It’s me, Jensen. You’re safe, baby. God, please come back to me. I won’t hurt you. I’d never hurt you.”

The entire room was spinning like some crazy Tilt-A-Whirl at the fair. Nausea rose, swift and violent, and she bolted upward, the bands around her wrists suddenly gone.

She hunched over in a protective position, shielding her most vulnerable parts. Her ribs, her belly, places that could easily be injured. Wetness soaked into her shirt sleeves and she realized she was sobbing. Giant, silent sobs welling from the deepest recesses of her chest.

A strong hand hesitantly touched her shoulder and she flinched, turning, determined to ward off an attack.

“Kylie, God, baby. It’s me. Please, baby. Look at me.
See
me.”

Jensen’s worried plea broke through the haze. Some of the panic dissipated, leaving her with only humiliation and abject despair. She was broken. Broken. Unfixable. Nothing would ever be right. Not for her. Never again.

She buried her face in her arms and rocked back and forth, too mortified to even look at him. How crazy he must think she was. Not think. Knew.

“Please, just go away,” she begged, her voice muffled by her arms. “Please. I can’t bear it. I’m so sorry. Just go. Please. I’m sorry.”

“Goddamn it, you
won’t
apologize for this,” he seethed.

The fury in his voice made her wary again and she risked a quick peek at him to gauge his temper, readying herself for the violence that would surely follow.

But he was sitting a distance from her, almost as if he were careful to maintain a barrier between them. A barrier
she’d
erected. Damn it, but when would she stop freaking out? Could she ever expect to have a normal life? Was it too much to ask?

Another sob welled low in her throat and tears ran like rivers down her cheeks.

“Tell me what to do to help you, baby.”

Jensen’s voice was pleading. He sounded desperate and as out of sorts as she was.

“It’s not your fault,” she choked out. “It’s me. I’m sorry. It’s me. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“The hell I didn’t,” he bit out. “It was a stupid, boneheaded thing of me to have done. I got carried away. That’s on me. Not you. Goddamn it, Kylie. I’m so sorry.”

She lifted her head, shaking it almost violently, tears still running in rivulets down her face.

“No,” she said, her voice cracking. “Not your fault. Please, just go. I just want to be alone.”

He looked uncertain. It was obvious he didn’t want to leave her in her present state but neither did he want to further upset her.

“I’ll be okay,” she said, attempting to reassure him. “I’ll be fine. Just go. I’ve ruined everything.”

“I don’t want to leave you like this,” he said, fury lacing his voice. “I did this to you. I reminded you of him and I’d goddamn die before ever making you feel that way with me. I can’t stomach the thought.”

She lowered her head miserably to her arms, grief overwhelming her. Jensen had been nothing but kind and gentle with her. So very understanding. And she’d repaid him by making him feel like some abusive asshole. Her father. Oh God, why couldn’t she control her reactions? Why did she have to freak out the minute things got heavy?

“Kylie?”

His voice was tentative and seeking. But she couldn’t look at him. Not knowing how she’d made him feel. She shook her head, the words sad and defeated as they slipped from her lips.

“Please just go, Jensen. That’s what you can do for me. And please, don’t bear the burden for what happened. It isn’t your fault. You were nothing but gentle and patient with me. I’m mortified and just want to be alone right now.”

“That’s the very last thing you need,” he huffed out in frustration.

She looked up to see him run an agitated hand through his cropped hair. He looked utterly indecisive, something she’d normally never associate with him. He was a man who was self-assured, if nothing else.

“Please,” she whispered. “Just go. I’ll be fine. It’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”

Her statement only seemed to enrage him more. “There’s no reason for you to deal with this alone. But if I’m making things worse, I’ll go. It’s not what I want, but for you, I’ll do it. But I don’t have to fucking like it or agree with it.”

She managed a shaky smile through watery eyes.

He hesitated, as if deciding whether to touch her or do anything other than say good-bye. Then finally he rose from the couch, defeat burning in his eyes. She hated that she’d done that to him. That she’d taken him down with her in her never-ending mire of despair.

This was a lesson to her. A hard one, but a lesson nonetheless. She wasn’t capable of a normal, healthy relationship with anyone. She was an idiot to have dreamed, even for a moment, that it was possible.

JENSEN
got behind the wheel of his car and pounded the steering wheel in frustration. Goddamn it! It went against every instinct to leave Kylie in the state she was. Only the knowledge that his presence was making it worse, that she was utterly humiliated and he was only adding to her distress, had convinced him to go.

What he wanted to do was barge back in, take her in his arms and hold her the entire night. Even if it meant spending another night handcuffed to her bed.

The idea that he’d brought back even a moment of her past gutted him. That going forward she would associate her abuse at the hands of a monster with him was more than he could stomach.

Seeing her pale and shaken, utterly broken and in despair, had reopened old wounds of his own. Memories long suppressed crowded to the surface making him feel as helpless as he had as a kid, watching his mother being abused, powerless to make it stop and then feeling the brunt of his father’s rage when he tried to intervene.

No, Kylie wasn’t the only one who had demons to fight. But it was evident that she’d never found a way to cope. She, unlike Jensen, was still rooted solidly in the past. It was as alive and vivid in her mind as if it had happened yesterday.

How the hell was he supposed to break through? How could he ever gain her trust? And why was it so important to him that he did?

Kylie was a woman who was all wrong for him and yet so very right at the same time. She was nothing like the other women he’d involved himself with. She was fragile and so very breakable and being around her meant suppressing everything of himself that made him who he was.

Was she worth it?

As soon as the question fluttered through his mind he already knew the answer. Knew he’d already committed himself to the fact that she was very much worth the effort. But for the first time, failure seemed a possibility and he was not accustomed to failing in anything. Not since he was a child.

While he sat in the driveway of Kylie’s home, he picked up his cell phone and scrolled through his contacts for Chessy Morgan’s number. He hit Send and then put the phone to his ear, waiting for her to pick up, praying that she would pick up.

“Chessy?” he said when a female voice answered. “This is Jensen Tucker, Dash’s partner,” he added hastily so she wouldn’t assume it was a telemarketer and hang up.

“Hi, Jensen.”

Her voice was friendly and wary at the same time, as if she was puzzled over him calling her. Hell, he couldn’t blame her. They’d only met once, though Dash had given Jensen Tate’s and Chessy’s numbers in case there were problems while Dash and Joss were away.

“You know Kylie and I had a date tonight,” he said bluntly. “It didn’t go well. At all.”

“Oh no,” Chessy said in a stricken voice. “What happened? Is she okay?”

“No, she’s not,” he said grimly. “She was hysterical and then humiliated and embarrassed. She insisted I leave and she doesn’t need to be alone right now. I thought maybe you could check in on her. I don’t like leaving her this way but neither will I stay and add to her stress.”