Uncaged (8 page)

“Why?”

She twisted the hem of the quilt between anxious fingers. “It’s personal. First, I wanted to thank you face-to-face for ending my nightmare. I saw you jog away the first time. You didn’t have to come back, but you did,” her voice trembled. “They were going to kill me.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“I know I don’t
have to
, but I need to. This is where I’m going to sound silly. Bear with me. I hope to God I don’t make you cringe.” She gulped a deep breath. “For the last four years, I’ve had this haunting, larger-than-life image of you in my mind. You can’t deny you were my hero that night. Then the media blitz hit. I saw your face on products and the sports channels. It sort of got out of hand.”

“And you’re looking for reassurance I’m just some guy who fucked up?”

“I wouldn’t say it that way. I needed to see you were human.”

He winced, unable to own the claim.

“My childhood ended prematurely, but this is my fresh start as an adult. I want to be like everyone else. Do what they do. Finish college. Get a job. Find a boyfriend.” Allowing the quilt to drop to her shoulders, she slid closer. “But I can’t because once I turned eighteen, someone released my full name to the public. Now everyone on campus knows I’m ‘that’ little girl. The past comes up all the time. But the worst part is I can’t go on a date or get excited about anyone because….” Her face collapsed.

He got nervous as hell.

“No one compares.”

“Oh God. I have to stop you—”

“Wait. I came to Los Lobos, expecting to be disappointed. I planned to sit down with you and talk, see the flaws, and get disillusioned. Then say a quick ‘thank you and good-bye.’ Cross my heart, I wanted to be free. Now, how am I going to move forward?”

“What do you mean?”

With skittish actions, she crossed and uncrossed her ankles. “You’re a great guy. Instead of wishing I’d find someone else like you, I’d like to get to know you better.”

His gut churned. They were headed toward disaster. The heroic thing to do would be to smother hope and allow her to move on. “Christy, I’m going to be honest with you. You should walk away. I’m not what you think. This would never work. I know this sounds like bullshit, but one day, you will thank me for telling you to move on.”

“Can we stay in touch and be friends?”

“It’s a bad idea.”

She looked hurt. “I’ll drop it.”

“Christy, I meant—”

“It’s okay. You listened and gave me a chance to say what I needed to say.”

“I’m saying all the wrong things, aren’t I?” He glanced toward the door. “I’m going to ask Gee if he can put me in his room tonight.”

“No, don’t do that. I’m the one who should leave.”

“I’m not putting you out tonight. Besides, there’s nowhere else to go.”

“It’s been a long day. I’m exhausted.” She plopped down in the easy chair. “Throw me another quilt. I’ll be asleep in ten minutes.”

He rushed toward her and grasped her arm. “Get up. I’ll take the chair. You take the bed.”

Her lips drew taut. “It’s your bed.”

He tugged a little harder. “Please, I’m offering.”

The line of her mouth remained resolute. “I’m fine here.”

Taking hold of her wrist, he coaxed her to rise. “The bed is more comfortable. I’ll feel better.”

Resisting his motions, she dug in like a badger. “I’ll stay.”

“Sitting so close to the window, you’ll freeze. Don’t be so stubborn.” He leaned over, scooping her into his arms, quilt and all. After carrying her to the bed, he dropped her on the mattress.

Landing on her side, she looked indignant. “That wasn’t fair.” Rising on her elbow, she cast the quilt aside and bolted toward the chair.

“Oh no, you don’t!” He rushed toward the chair and launched himself into it at the exact moment Christy became airborne and landed in his lap.

“Ouch!” She smacked down on him before sinking between his thighs.

His arms locked around her waist when she tried to wriggle away. “Are you okay?”

Heaving a deep breath. “Yes.”

“Good.” He longed to keep her on his lap but released her instead.

She walked over to the bed, threw herself down, and started laughing.

For no reason, he laughed, too.

“We must look foolish.”

He laughed harder. “I’m sure we do.”

Still laughing as she slipped her boots off. “You can have the damn chair.”

“You can keep the damn bed.” Snatching a quilt for himself, he realized for the first time in a long while, he was happy.

Climbing under the covers, Christy settled into Mitchell’s bed. The red flannel sheets with snowmen printed on them looked too Christmasy for late March but felt cozy on such a stormy night. “Who’s going to turn out the lights?”

“I will.” Mitchell tossed the quilt aside. “I’m going to brush my teeth.”

She bolted upright. “I need to brush, too.”

“I’ve only got one toothbrush.”

“I carry a small armory. Fortunately, I’m prepared to fight plaque as well. There’s a mini in my purse.”

Pointing toward the bathroom door. “Ladies first.”

She entered the dark bathroom. “Where’s the light switch?”

“Above your head. Pull the chain.”

Flailing her hand at the air until a metallic link came to her hand, she gave it a tug. The single bulb glared. The tiny room was literally a plumbed closet with a sloped ceiling.

“It’s not fancy,” he called from the far side of the room.

Setting the tote bag on the sink, she hunted for the dental kit with its travel toothbrush and tiny tube of minty paste. “Fancy doesn’t matter.” She almost reminded him she’d spent months living with Reverend Simon in unplumbed cabins and earthen bunkers outfitted with foul latrines, but the past felt irrelevant.

She squeezed speckled blue toothpaste onto the baby-sized brush as she looked in the bathroom mirror.
Mitchell.
His name floated through her thoughts as she cleaned her teeth. What a puzzle he’d become. Open and childlike one moment, full of brooding secrets the next. For years she’d carried a certain picture in her mind of who he might be, a warrior, hero, avenging angel, and ultimately fallen angel. All those lofty descriptions applied, but she liked the complicated man who got bashful, said stupid stuff, or laughed like a kid even better.

She finished brushing her teeth then sat down to pee. After she washed her hands in cool water, she exited the bathroom.

Mitchell sat on the bed holding the remote. The glow of the television provided the sole light in the room. “Good news. The signal’s back.” After handing her the remote, he headed toward the bathroom. “Choose something. I’ll watch whatever you like.” The door shut behind him.

Clicking through a few channels, she came to the conclusion pickings were slim. Her gaze drifted toward a bookshelf filled with murder mysteries, well-worn philosophy tomes by Plato and Aristotle, and a wide selection of science fiction fantasy including H.G Wells and Jules Verne, which she loved, too. A stack of college-level math texts were within reach of the bed. She peeked inside one dog-eared book and saw the pages covered with inscrutable penciled equations.

Remembering to cancel the hotel room in Rapid City, she reached into her tote for her phone and clicked. Then for the fourth time today, she called her mother. Mara didn’t pick up. The message went straight to voice mail. “Hi, Mom. I’m snowed in. I’m not even going to try to drive until the roads are plowed. I’m spending the night in Los Lobos. I’ve got a room with a lock on the door, and I feel completely safe.” She winced a little at the last part. “I love you. I’ll call in the morning.”

The door opened. Mitchell emerged with damp hair combed away from his face. Bold cheekbones and a longish nose lent his face a breathtaking elegance. For a second, she simply stared.

He smiled, brightening the room. “Anything on TV?”

“Nothing.” She motioned toward the bookshelf. “Have you read all those?”

He sat beside her on the bed, “Yep, a couple of them two or three times. I read a lot on the road. Would have gone nuts if I didn’t.”

Taking a chance, she offered an opinion. “You should go to college.”

He stroked the light stubble on his chin. “The opportunity came and went. I feel too old.”

“You’re not! I promise. I see all ages in my classes.”

“Really? Something to think about.” Taking hold of the remote, he clicked a few channels. “Look!
Dumb and Dumber
is on. You said there was nothing to watch. Shame on you.”

“Uh!” She groaned. “
Dumb and Dumber
is always on.”

Leaning back on his elbows, he settled his weight on the mattress. “You have to admit it’s funny.”

“It is.” She felt encouraged he didn’t feel the need to get up and move away from her.

The movie lumbered along. Mitchell beamed. She knew every line but found herself laughing anyway because he did. During a commercial break, she caught him looking at her.

“What?”

“I’m glad you came to see me today. It feels like something has come full circle.”

“It does.”

“So, you grew up and went to college. What else is going on in your life?”

Grabbing a strand of her hair, she twisted the ends. “A lot and not enough. I don’t know how to answer.”

“Do you have a boyfriend you hang out with?”

“No.”

“Just no?” He pulled himself upright, clasping his hands in front. “You mean not at the moment or no one serious?”

Drawing her knees to her chest. “I mean not ever.”

“Nobody? That surprises me.”

“Does it? Think about it.”

“What are you looking for in a boyfriend-d?” he stuttered.

“Hundred-percent trust and a sense of safety. Mention that to guys my age and watch them scatter like cockroaches fleeing a kitchen light.”

“There’s someone out there. For a different set of reasons, I’m in the same boat.”

Biting her lip. “I used to dream about you.”

His face flushed. “Oh, come on—”

“Wait, let me make my point. Before today, I carried the most vivid image in my mind of what you would be like in real life. Beneath the public face, I expected you to be aloof, a bit mean, but you’re not. You’re just a big innocent kid. Even I could teach you things.”

He huffed. “I’m sure you’re right.”

Unfurling her legs, she crept closer on all fours. Stopping in front of him, she brushed the tip of her nose against his. “I would trust you to kiss me and stop if I asked you to.”

For a moment, he looked scared. “You shouldn’t trust me.”

“I sense I can.”

When he slid away, the mattress flexed under his weight. “Christy, I’m in a situation that might put you at risk. You don’t want to be associated with…. I’m a….” His brow furrowed, mouth tensed.

“It’s okay if you’re not feeling it.”

Eyes shining. “But I am. You don’t understand.”

Giving his hand a squeeze. “You don’t have to say it.”

His lashes dipped. “I haven’t been with anyone since before my car accident months ago. I’m not even sure I can….”

“You’re getting ahead of yourself. No pressure. Just a kiss. I would love it.”

“I meant control myself,” his voice dipped to low husky tones. “Christy, having you in my bed is way more temptation than I can handle.”

“I think you can handle it.” Straddling his thighs, she faced him. Her hands skimmed his flannel shirt, taking in the swooping topography of the solid chest beneath. She cupped the sides of his face. Her gaze locked with his. Mitchell’s eyes widened, his pupils pooled black. She pressed a gentle kiss to one temple and then the other. “See how easy?”

“You seem fragile, and then you’re so aggressive.” The tempo of his breath quickened.

She pressed her lips against his. “I’ve already experience the bad. I refuse miss out on the good.” Delivering a lingering second kiss, she brushed a strand of his hair from his brow. “Are we okay? Should I stop?”

He returned the lightest kiss. “I would never have guessed what a little she-wolf you are.”

Gliding her lips across the rough grain of his cheek, she murmured, “Is ‘she-wolf’ a compliment?”

He clasped her in his arms, holding her close, his face in her hair. “Oh yes.”

Mitchell battled the urge to topple Christy onto the mattress—something he knew absolutely should not happen. Not this time. He vowed to allow her to explore him in complete safety. Christy needed his tenderness. To build trust, he willingly became her prisoner.

Having Christy astride his lap tested his self-restraint like nothing he’d ever experienced. He’d never felt such a strong attraction. The lonely Wolf in him wanted to howl with joy over the discovery of a potential mate. Gently rubbing his face against her hair, he inhaled the fresh scent of her shampoo, but beneath the balsam notes lay so much more. Like a whiff of incense snaking on the breeze, the tang of female arousal and something mysterious teased his senses and left him with a hard cock and a pounding heart. It could have been a wishful delirium, but he thought he’d caught a faint scent of Wolf on Christy. With so many pack members near, he couldn’t be sure.

Her kisses were soft and playful. She seemed fascinated by the swell of his bottom lip gliding, sucking and nipping it between her teeth until he melted. Parting his lips with the tip of her tongue, she teased him with slow sweeping strokes. The sensations she provoked drove him crazy.

He tangled his fingers in her hair and held her close as he kissed her mouth.

She reached for his collar. “May I unbutton your shirt?”

In her eyes, he saw a hint of mischief. “Yes.”

Unfastening the top buttons, she pushed the plaid flannel aside to expose his chest. She skimmed her fingertips over every inch of revealed flesh, pausing to bring his nipple to a point then swirling her fingers in the thickest patch of hair in the center. “I always wondered what you’d feel like. Your hair is silky.” Beaming she tugged her sweater off followed by a gauzy T-shirt until only a thin camisole remained that did little to cover her luscious curves. The clear outline of large plum nipples shone through. Taking his hand in hers, she brought it to her breast. The tips peaked. “It’s cool in here. I want to lie skin to skin with you under the covers.” She slid the camisole’s strap from her shoulder. “Warm me up.”