Mind Games (Games Thriller Series)

JET-Fueled Fiction

Mind Games
© March 2014 J.E. Taylor

Second Edition

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This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Cover Art © 201
1 Willsin Rowe

Edited by
Lorelei Logsdon -
LoreleiLogsdon.com

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This book is for sale to Adult Audiences Only. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes, graphic language and violence that may be considered offensive by some readers.

MIND GAMES

by

J.E. Taylor

Chapter 1

Adjusting the zoom on his camera, he panned; scanning the beach until he found her and his heart skipped a beat. Alone and still as beautiful as he remembered and he wondered if seeing her up close would have the same effect it used to, a rush of sudden electricity followed by consuming heat drowning all his senses to the point he forgot to breathe.

God, I missed her
.

A quick click of the shutter captured her image and he lowered the lens, tossing the camera back in his car.

He stretched, waiting until she took the turn at the rocks lining the end of the beach and jogged by where he stood. Moving onto the sand, he sprinted until he was a few feet behind her. A few more strides and he jogged alongside her.

* * * *

She became aware of the shadow matching her stride, but didn’t look over. Instead, she sped up a little. The shadow kept pace.

“You a reporter?” she asked without looking at him, pulling the earphone out of her ear.

“Not in a million years,” he said.

That phrase stopped her beating heart for a moment, then the pounding resumed, tingling through her skin with the frantic pressure, and she put on the brakes, skidding to a stop in the sand, her eyes plastered to his form.

He ran a few steps ahead and turned, his sunglasses reflecting a sharp glare in the mid-day sun. Edges of dark hair curled around the backwards baseball cap and the smile, God that smile made her bones melt to molten jelly. She stumbled back a step.

He reached up and took his glasses off revealing the deep blue eyes she saw every night in her dreams.

“Ty?”

“Chris Ryan,” he said and approached her, extending his hand.

Jessica Whitman shook his hand and stared at him for a moment before tearing her eyes away from his intense gaze and scanning the beach. Relief settled in her at the sight of other winter beachcombers, giving her bones a more solid feel. She offered a curve of her lips, a slight smile, and began to jog again, putting the earphone back in her ear and giving her reeling mind time to think.

He jogged quietly beside her.

After a few measured yards, she popped the earphone out again. “Where have you been?”

“New York City.”

Jessica nodded slightly. Her heart raced faster than usual; it had been over five years since she last set eyes on him. She never expected to see him again, alive and so vibrant, not after leaving him bleeding to death in that hellhole.

“Are you okay?”

“I’ve been worse,” she lied and glanced at him.

The silence enveloped them and they continued jogging down the beach.

“How’d you know?”

“Tabloids,” he answered. “Where’s Tom?”

“California.”

“Is everything I read true?”

The loaded question stopped her in her tracks and she walked toward the water. The tabloids capitalized on her pain, splashing her daughter’s death and her impending divorce all over the rags. Her chest squeezed tight and she scanned the horizon. “Tom couldn’t deal with it. He doesn’t have a clue of what losing Em did to me. She wasn’t his daughter. He thinks I should snap out of it, get on with life and he just gave up trying. So yes, he left.”

“I told him not to hurt you,” he said, reaching to wipe a strand of hair out of her face.

Jessica nodded slowly. “He came back for the funeral, but . . .” She shook her head listening to the waves hitting the sand. “But he said it was over when he left this time.”

“How’s Eric?”

“Devastated, just like me,” she answered and the imaginary strap tightened around her chest trying to close the endless empty hole. “We couldn’t fix her.” Tears burned her eyes and she turned toward him. “Ty, we couldn’t fix her.”

He reached out and pulled her close, kissing the top of her head. “I’m so sorry Jess.” His voice wavered, filled with pangs of guilt.

The hole in her soul faded a fraction with his arms around her. Warmth radiated through the thin sweatshirt and she nuzzled closer, letting the sobs she locked in for so long have free reign. His hand ran idly over her back, creating ripples of electricity through her muscles with each lazy pass.

She pulled away and wiped her face looking up into his eyes. “Why now?”

“Thought you might need me.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked out at the white caps.

Jessica followed his gaze, squinting at the glimmers of sunlight reflecting off the ocean surface and gave an imperceptible nod.

“I missed you,” he said.

Without saying a word, she sent a glance in his direction before heading toward her beach house.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

She hesitated, not ready for him, not ready to let the overwhelming storm circling her rain down. “Ty…”

“Please, call me Chris,” he said cutting her off. “Ty died on the floor that day.”

She inhaled, scanning him with her eyes. He was even more handsome without the scar and the flood of feelings she denied for the past five years overflowed the levies she built around her heart. Her eyes filled with new tears and she nodded. “I need you.”

His lips spread into a smile that twinkled in his eyes. “My car’s over there.” He pointed to a beautiful red vintage Corvette Stingray.

The flashy car brought a smile to her face.

“You like?”

She nodded.

“It’s yours.” He handed her the keys.

The shock of his statement unhinged her jaw and her eyes danced between the dangling keys and the red sports car. Candy Apple red. Unbidden, her hand reached for the keys, stopping just short of the glinting metal. She pulled her hand back, letting it drop to her side before she raised her gaze to his bright blue eyes. “I can’t take this.”

“I’ve got more money than God, remember?” He smiled, sliding his sunglasses back on. “You can have anything you want.”

“You can’t give me what I want.”

He reached out and pulled the hair tie out of her hair. The wind swirled her long locks around her face. “What do you want?” He stepped closer.

“I want Emily back.”

“You’re right, I can’t make that happen. But I can give you everything else you need.” He ran his hand into her hair and leaned over, gently kissing her.

His touch ignited that flame inside her, filling the void with heat and smoke and when she opened her eyes, he had the passenger side door propped open. She slid inside, watching him trot to the driver’s seat and smile at her as he turned over the engine.

He navigated the car through the winding streets, pulling into her driveway a few minutes later without any instructions from her.

“You knew where we lived?”

“I kept tabs over the years.”

Jessica fumbled with the keys, unlocking the front door and swung it open for him, following him inside. “Eric’s with his
dad for the week,” she said and closed the door behind them.

He removed his hat, running his hand through his hair, scanning the tastefully decorated beach house, just what he expected from Jessica. He walked to the windows that overlooked the bluff and the most photographed lighthouse on the
East Coast. “Hell of a view.”

The storm inside brewed and a tornado of feelings gripped her, the most pronounced being lust. She had forgotten how strong the bond between them was, not just the depth of their love, but the raw power of his physical proximity, the sinuous tingle to the air, the magnetism, the heat, the electricity.

“Ty,” she whispered and flew toward him.

He met her in the middle of the room, wrapping his arms around her waist and picking her up. Their lips met, unleashing the passion that had been bottled up for five years and he swept her off her feet, breaking the kiss to look at the layout of the living room, choosing the hallway to their left and she gave a nod of affirmation.

Seconds later, he kissed her, laying her out on the bed and running his hands through her hair, holding her face, his tongue dancing with hers, heat enveloping her, leaving her breathless.

“Tell me,” he whispered in his smooth sexy voice, moving his lips to her neck. His hands moved down her body and she trembled under his touch.

Jessica pulled at his sweatshirt and he leaned up so she could strip it off. Running her fingers over his perfect chest, she gazed up into his eyes. There were no scars anywhere and she understood the extent of the power her son unleashed, the power that healed the bullet wounds along with the scar on his face, the power she now felt in him.

“Say it Jessie.” He propped himself over her, staring down, his eyes intent and pleading.

His game, his need to hear the words took precedence over his passion and she crumbled, giving herself to him completely. “I want you, Ty.”

The change in his eyes, the longing satisfied, transitioned to an emotion so pure it owned her, body, heart and soul. He made love to every inch of her with his hands and mouth and she savored the feel of him, the smell of him, the sound of him, whispering his name over and over until he found her lips again, cutting off her need-laden voice.

“I love you,” he whispered and slid inside her.

* * * *

Jessica Whitman sat up in her bed calling his name. Her chest heaved and she looked around the empty room.

Tom stuck his head out of the bathroom, toothbrush in his mouth. “You okay
, babe?”

Jessica stared at him and around the room again. “Yes.” She nodded
, falling back on the soft mattress, staring at the ceiling, still feeling his hands on her body.